The Crow and The Falcon
by redcognito
Summary: Stefan and Damon move onto a new life... and straight into trouble.
1.

This was written back in 1997. It's cheesy, just to warn you, and it's something I cringe a little at, but I know a few people like it, and Ashke is writing a fic that stems from this (insane chap), so I figured I'd put it up.  
  
Disclaimers: The Vampire Diaries and the characters therein belong to L.J. Smith. However, I promise to return all characters in a relatively healthy state, and to treat them nicely.   
  
Consider this and the books to be set a couple of years or so *after* LJS set them. Just for the sake of preserving the time line in the real world when I wrote it.  
  
The Blurb:  
They must stand together...or perish apart. After five centuries of hatred, an uneasy bond has formed between the vampire brothers, Stefan and Damon. Together they move on to a new town, a new start, and new friends. But evil threatens the lives of the students of Redditch High, an evil that wants revenge on those very people Stefan and Damon have befriended. All that stands between it and it's ultimate triumph are the motley crew of teenagers. And they all depend on one thing....can Stefan and Damon truly overcome their differences and stand together?   
  
(Corny, huh? Anyway, read, have a laugh :))  
  
/italics/ (also doubles as the bad guy communication, bad me, but it shouldn't be too confusing)  
*thoughts*  
((telepathy))  
  
  
  
The Crow and The Falcon. (Prologue)  
  
The rain spattered against the grimy window pane, and water trickled in through a hole in the glass, pooling on the inside sill. The odd gust of wind blustered in through the same hole, causing the candles that sat in the middle of the wooden floor to flicker, almost guttering out. Two figures sat hunched over a battered old book, muttering quietly to each other. A perfectly manicured female finger marked a place in the text.  
  
"We're going to do this, then?" The owner of the finger breathed excitedly.  
  
"Uh huh." Her companion grinned. "We wait till midnight, right?" He asked.  
  
The girl nodded. "Midnight." She replied, then looked at her watch. "Only a few more minutes."  
  
The boy arranged a few implements on the top of an upturned box. A dagger, a small bowl, an un-lit black candle, and a chunk of chalk. "How much longer?" He asked.  
  
The girl stared at her watch for a few seconds more. "Now." She whispered.  
  
Silently, the boy took the chalk in his hand, and sketched a circle on the wooden floor. The girl picked up the black candle and placed it carefully in the centre of the circle, while the boy took up the bowl and dagger. He sliced into the palm of his hand, winced a little at the pain, and watched as the blood poured from the wound into the bowl set below. He passed the dagger on to the girl, who did the same. She dipped her finger into the blood, moved to the candle, and held her finger above the wick, allowing the crimson liquid to drip onto the dark wax.  
  
"With power of blood, dark candle a-light." They whispered in unison. A gust of wind blew through the attic, and the candles outside the circle sputtered out, plunging the two figures into darkness. The blood on the wick sizzled and spat, sending out small red sparks before it burst into a dark red flame. The two stared at each other nervously. The girl picked up the bowl and reached in to the circle, placing the bowl carefully over the crimson flame. The boy let out a small gasp of surprise as it stayed there, suspended in mid-air over the candle. He licked his lips, and the pair continued.  
  
"With our blood as our offering, we summon you. Creature of darkness, creature of hate, we call you to our circle."  
  
The pair stared at the candle, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.  
  
"Maybe we did something wrong?" The girl asked.  
  
"No." The boy shook his head. "Just wait." He whispered.  
  
The bowl began to rotate slowly, but soon picked up speed, spinning wildly. A fine blood mist began to rise from the bowl, tendrils swirling and writhing around each other, and glowing with an eerie intensity. A low pitched hiss began to reverberate around the room, gaining in volume until the boy and girl had to clasp their hands over their ears, shutting their eyes with the sharp pain. Abruptly, the noise stopped.  
  
"Why do you summon me?" A gravely voice hissed. The pair opened their eyes, and stared dumbly into the circle. Rising from the bowl was the a bloody and hazy snake. It's hood suggested it might have been a Cobra, yet it's face seemed to bear some human characteristics. "Why do you summon me?" It asked again.  
  
"We seek power. The power to destroy those we hate." The girl spoke clearly, although a little shakily.  
  
"Such a thing does not come without a price." The snake hissed, narrowing it's eyes. "A great price."  
  
"We're willing to do what you want." The boy said.  
  
"Anything?" The snake laughed a hideous rasping sound when the pair nodded. "Very well. I can give you power. I can help you...dispose...of those you hate. But you must break the circle."  
  
"But if we do that, we cannot control you." Said the girl.  
  
"And if you don't, I cannot help you. My powers cannot reach outside this circle."  
  
The pair exchanged glances.  
  
"If we break the circle, you will help us?" The boy asked. The snake nodded, and after a moments hesitation, the boy reached forward, and rubbed away a portion of the chalk circle. The snake laughed menacingly and stared hungrily at the two children.  
  
"Now I will give you power." It laughed again, and split into two, shooting forward and into the mouths of the children before they were able to react. As they screamed in pain, the bowl clattered to the floor. The candle-light reflected briefly in the empty bowl before the flame extinguished itself, leaving the attic in a dark and deadly silence.  
  
  
  
  
The Crow and The Falcon. (One)  
  
Damon Salvatore was seated towards the back of the class, already tiring of the game he was playing. He'd found it amusing to stare vacantly out of the window for several minutes, until the teacher noticed him and directed him to repeat what he'd said in Italian. Which Damon did. Fluently. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen to take Italian as one of his classes. After the third time of doing this, the irritation could be plainly seen on the teacher's face as he glared, tight-lipped, at the belligerent student. Damon just smiled smugly back, and started the process over again. But it was only entertaining to a limit, and that limit had passed halfway through the lesson. Now he was brooding, and wondering what the hell he was doing here. After a week at Redditch High he thought he would be bored out of his mind. Which he was, to some extent, although there /were/ a few interesting people he'd come across.  
  
The twins, for example. He'd bumped into them a few times during the week. The first he had been removing some books from his locker when he'd backed into them. Normally his preternatural senses would have prevented the mishap, but the hallway was crowded and he was having enough trouble concentrating on holding onto his books as it was. He'd turned round after treading on a foot to come face to face with two pairs of identical green eyes. A boy and a girl. He'd mumbled sorry, and flashed them a charming smile before hurrying off to class. The second time he met them was coming out of the bathroom later in the day. The girl brushed a lock of wine-auburn hair behind her ear, then flipped him a wave with a friendly smile at his apology. A few days later he found himself standing behind them in the lunch queue, and discovered their names. Jessamyn and Michael. Jess and Mike, they'd both insisted.  
  
Currently, he was staring at the back of a head seated two rows in front of him. Primarily because the hair on the head was an electric blue. The girl in question had been in all of his classes so far today, and he was fascinated by her, and not only because of her hair. He could sense a great amount of Power emanating from within her. Similar to Bonnie's but more powerful. By far, most likely from experience more than anything else. Remembering Bonnie McCullough stirred up memories of Fell's Church the previous month and caused his mood to darken.  
  
Over the year since Elena's rebirth he'd been more than surprised to find himself growing closer to his brother, Stefan. But while they grew closer, Elena and Stefan had been drifting apart. Elena's strange return had caused great alarm in the small town, not least to Aunt Judith, who, at first, refused to believe it was /really/ her niece. Explanations were difficult, almost unsatisfactory to many minds.   
  
Elena had been only been missing the past several months, and not dead, they had said. She'd run away after her 'miraculous' survival of the accident on Wickery Bridge, not wanting to stay in Fell's Church with Aunt Judith if she in turn could not accept Stefan. The story they chose to tell was that she'd taken a coach trip to a town she'd stayed in once with her parents, and, after cooling down a little, intended to come back again. But her plans were ruined after being involved in an accident. She awoke in the hospital with no recollection of who she was, or how she got there. Of course, as she was assumed dead there were no missing persons records or such to identify her by. She was merely a Jane Doe in the eyes of the hospital, and, when healthy enough to leave, she wandered around, doing part time work to support herself whilst trying to regain her memory.  
  
This was all well and good, they were told, but what about her body? Elena had acted innocent, she had /no/ idea who the impostor was. None at all. It was Stefan that saved the day. It /could/ have been Katherine who had died, he mused. An old girlfriend who had followed him, unable to accept it was over. Their resemblance to each other was why he'd been attracted to Elena in the first place, he'd said. At least his sense of honour was part way placated by this snippet of truth. He'd thought that Elena had been acting strangely during the last two weeks of her life, not wanting to go home, avoiding all the people she knew. The townsfolk accepted this grudgingly, and life returned to relative normality. Out of the entire town, only those in the clearing that night new the truth. After a warning from Damon, Tyler was keeping his mouth shut, and keeping his distance.  
  
Stefan's choice to stay alive as a vampire when Elena had offered it had been the start of his gradual acceptance of his own nature; no bad thing in Damon's opinion, although he still refused to take human blood. In many ways this acceptance was a part of the downfall of Stefan and Elena's relationship. Elena could never be a part of what he was. She'd been driven near mad when she'd changed the first time, and Stefan had known since she'd come back that he couldn't do it to her again. She didn't want it, no matter how much she'd loved him. It caused a rift to open, and barriers started coming between them as they drifted slowly apart. The relationship had ended a little over a month previously, and it was Stefan who finished it. For her own good, more than anything, to give her a chance at a normal life, with a future and children. That, and he didn't want to see her die for a third time. Stefan still didn't know if they'd keep in touch.  
  
It was Damon who had insisted on a new start for them both. He thought Stefan had been more than a little surprised at Damon /wanting/ to stay with him, but then so had Damon. And so it was that a month later they found themselves joining classes two months into the new school year at Redditch High.  
  
The town itself was considerably larger than Fell's Church, as was the school. The brothers slipped in almost anonymously. School had been Stefan's idea, and he'd been insistent. Damon went along with him, prepared to try anything at least once for the hell of it. The crack of working through the throats of every pretty girl in the school had met with a hard stare from Stefan. His brother had changed enough over the past year that he didn't feel like provoking him further. It probably wouldn't be too bad for his health, but he didn't want to risk it.  
  
Class was finishing as Damon re-emerged from the past, and students filed out of the door. He followed them into the hall, only to be grabbed roughly by the throat and slammed hard up against the wall. It was all he could do to restrain himself from seizing his assailant and ripping their throat out.  
  
"Look, mate, quit staring at me, wouldya. You've been at it all day and you're starting to give me the heeby jeebies." It was the blue headed girl from class. She released him after a moment, and he glared at her.  
  
"You shouldn't do that to people you don't know." He snarled. "It's not very nice. And you could get into all kinds of trouble." He brushed past her and stormed off down the hall, students scattering to avoid him. He sneaked a look back as he turned the corner. The girl grinned and turned in the opposite direction, shaking her head in mock despair. He had half a mind to teach her a lesson later on, but decided against it. Her Power intrigued him.  
  
  
  



	2. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Two)  
  
It was pouring with rain outside, so the cafeteria was more packed than usual. Jessamyn and Michael Webber were quick to order the group of cheerleaders off of their usual table with cold green stares, in stereo. The group quickly moved on and the twins slipped into their seats. Mike probed at a pile of toxic green slush on his plate dubiously.  
  
"If I eat this, I'm gonna mutate into something nasty." He complained.  
  
"You already have. Eat up. Mom's got a meeting tonight. I'm not sticking around at home to be subject to Kate's cooking." His sister grinned.  
  
Mike grimaced, and forked a mouthful of the goo into his mouth. Jess was glad she didn't have to eat it today. Instead she took a big bite out of the apple she'd bought, making sure it crunched loudly.  
  
"Rub it in, why don't you." He moaned.  
  
"Rub-a-dub-dub." She replied, reaching over and rubbing his nose gently.  
  
"Thanks." He said, sourly. "You know, if you hadn't had that chocolate bar in music, you'd be eating this too."  
  
"I know. That's why I ate it."  
  
"You're gonna screw up your diet."  
  
"No I'm not. I included the chocolate bar in today's calculations. I'll be fine."  
  
"Fine? What's wrong?" the blue-headed figure slipped in beside Mike.  
  
"Hi Cookie. Nothing's wrong." Jess greeted her friend.  
  
"Jess is abusing her body again with the vile substance known as chocolate."  
  
"And?" Cookie replied, "What's new?"  
  
Jess snickered. "Ha. You should have known better than to attempt recruiting Redditch High's resident chocolate fiend into your cause. Besides, I caught you eating those Mars Bars last week, so don't go preaching to me."  
  
"Yeah, Mike. Hypocrisy is one of the worst sins I know." Cookie smirked at him.  
  
"What's this? Attack Mike week or something? Geesh. I'm only saying it because I care."  
  
"I know." Jess relented, reaching over and ruffling his hair affectionately.  
  
"So where're Zia and the Techno Freak?" Cookie asked.  
  
"Zia's getting some extra coaching for Chemistry, and as far as I know, Adam is hiding out in a cubicle in the bathroom hacking into the school files." Mike informed her.  
  
"That's unusually tame for him. What's he doing in school files?"  
  
"Reducing Mrs Barclay's pay check."  
  
"Uh, why?" She asked, opening her lunch box.  
  
"She flunked him in art. He refused to draw a live study of a naked forty year old woman." Jess snorted. "He wants his revenge."  
  
"Oh the maturity of my brother astounds me." Cookie replied flatly and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I thought he left a little note last time in their files telling them how to improve them."  
  
"This is school. They're not gonna cough up the funds to secure their files like the Pentagon." Mike commented, pushing his plate away. "Ugh. I can't eat anymore of this."  
  
Cookie dumped her box in front of him, and started on the school meal that he'd left. "It's not that bad." She said, munching contentedly. "Quite nice, really." Mike stuck his tongue out and made gagging noises.  
  
"You're sick, Cookie." Jess grimaced. "So, we gonna go to the movies tonight?"  
  
"Sorry. Can't make it. Mom's got some ritual thing going on tonight, and me and Adam have been roped into cleaning the house for visitors." Cookie grumbled.  
  
"Why are you complaining? I thought you were in on most of that hocus pocus stuff?"  
  
"I am. But the house isn't being cleaned for ritual purposes - mom's going to a friend's for that. We got stuck cleaning because our snotty cousins are coming for the weekend."  
  
"Oh no." Mike closed his eyes in despair. "Not Bruce and Lydia. /Why/?"  
  
Cookie shrugged. "Who knows. They're just coming for a visit, so mom says. I suppose they have their real reasons tucked away somewhere in their twisted minds."  
  
"They are /not/ hanging round with us this time. I mean it. They even /try/ and come near me, I'm kicking them into the next state." Jess was adamant. She distinctly remembered the last time they had visited. Cookie's mother had made them entertain the pair for the week, and it had not been pleasant. They'd followed them around, complaining endlessly about how bored they were, how inferior things were to back home. They were, in Jess's opinion, the biggest snobs in the world. They also gave her the creeps.  
  
"Don't worry. Mom says they can entertain themselves this time. Anyway, it's only for the weekend. They'll probably stick at home."  
  
"And pigs might fly." Mike muttered. "If there's a chance of causing problems for us, Lydia and Bruce will jump at it...hey, what's wrong, Cooks?" He trailed off. Cookie was frowning at something behind him.  
  
"Nothing. Just a guy staring at me."  
  
Jess followed her friend's gaze. "You mean Damon Salvatore?"  
  
"That his name?"  
  
"Yeah. He's kinda cute."  
  
"He's kinda weird. In a psychotic sort of way. You can see it in his eyes. And there's this feeling I have about him, like he's hiding something."  
  
The twins looked troubled. "Can't you be more specific?" Jess asked.  
  
"Not yet." She replied distractedly as she rose from the table. "Save my seat, wouldya." Jess and Mike stared after her as she wound her way through the lunch crowd towards Damon Salvatore's table.  
  
"I hate it when she doesn't explain." Mike complained.  
  
"Give her time. She'll tell us eventually." She picked up Cookie's discarded fork and spooned some of the green gunk into her mouth, and grimaced. "You're right." She said, placing the fork gingerly back on the plate. "This stuff /is/ lethal."  
  
~*~  
  
"I think it's gonna work out fine here." Stefan remarked, taking a sip of mineral water. "Large town, large school, easy to hide what we are." He frowned at his brother's lack of attention. "Virgins galore that I can rip pretty little throats from." He added, annoyed.  
  
"Yeah. Great." Damon replied vacantly.  
  
"You aren't even listening, are you? You got your eyes on this evening's meal or something?" He asked disgustedly. "What is she? Blonde? Brunette? Tall, short?"  
  
"Tall, feisty, blue headed, and definitely not dinner." Damon stated, turning to face his brother. "Probe her." He said, pointing. "Tell me what you sense."  
  
Stefan stretched out tentatively with his mind, gently examining hers. Powerful. "She's psychic." He muttered, probing further. Abruptly, he was shut out, but not before he caught a wave of anger and irritation being sent his way. "And she's pissed. She sensed I was in there." He sighed.  
  
Damon rolled his eyes. "Well done, little brother. You should learn to be more careful."  
  
"Hey, I /was/ careful. My Powers aren't /that/ weak."  
  
"Well, no matter. She felt it, she's pissed..."  
  
"And she's making her way over here." Stefan interrupted.  
  
"What?" Damon turned quickly. "Oh, this should be fun." He smiled to himself and settled back into his seat. Stefan rolled his eyes. *Idiot*, he thought to himself, *he tempts trouble on purpose*.  
  
"Well hello, pretty lady." Damon greeted Cookie as she stormed up to them. "What's the reason for being blessed with your delightful company?"  
  
Cookie leaned over the table, glaring at him. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, I don't know /what/ you are...yet, but stay the hell out of my mind, you hear?" She hissed.  
  
Damon arched an inquiring brow at her, playing innocent. "I'm sorry, your mind?"  
  
"You know /exactly/ what I'm talking about. If you do it again, I'm gonna cause you a whole heap of trouble. I mean it." She turned to leave. "And that goes for you, too." She told Stefan as she stalked off.  
  
"Well done, Damon. Well done." Stefan clapped slowly. "You've been here a week, and already you're making enemies."  
  
"Oh shut up. It wasn't /me/ that was probing her mind, anyway." His tone was nonchalant, but Stefan thought he could sense a little disquiet growing beneath his brother's cool exterior.  
  
~*~  
  
Adam Tate sat in a cramped toilet cubicle with his Lap-top perched on his knee. The old /'Out of Order'/ sign hanging from the door ensured some degree of privacy. He'd already done what he set out to do, and was now casually browsing through the files of the new students. He arched a brow two particular files caught his eye. Or rather the lack of them. Salvatore, Damon and Salvatore, Stefan. Waiting for records from Robert E. Lee. *Out of town?* he thought. *Neat. New blood in the lifeless old place*. The bell for class rang, and Adam grinned as he decided to cut. He wanted to know more about these new students. After pacifying his paranoia by making sure the cubicle was securely locked, he set about hacking into the files of Robert E. Lee.  
  
And found...nothing. Nothing on Damon, and little on Stefan. Instead of disappointment, he was intrigued. /Real/ strangers. /Interesting/ people. He shut down his computer. Things were looking up for Adam. He glanced at his watch. 1.17. *Might as well leave early*, he thought, slipping out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Of course, Cookie would kill him for skipping again, but she wouldn't rat on him. Especially if he got most of the cleaning done before she got home. He stopped off briefly at his locker to retrieve his books, then sneaked out of the building and home. To find the door unlocked, and his worst nightmare sitting in the front room on one of the couches.  
  
Cold grey eyes stared at him from under short cropped blonde hair. "Well, hello." The voice was as cold as the gaze.  
  
Adam groaned inwardly. "Bruce." He nodded to his cousin. "You're here early."  
  
"We switched to an earlier flight."  
  
"Shouldn't you be in school?" Asked Lydia, brushing her hair from her face. Her own grey eyes were calculating. "We could cause you /a lot/ of trouble if we told." She added meaningfully.  
  
Adam sighed and threw his belongings on the couch. "You could, but I don't give a shit." He flashed a smile at her. "I mean, it's not as if I really /need/ to go to school, being a genius and all. Unlike /some/ people." He felt a stab of satisfaction as Lydia visibly bristled. She was a year older than he was and had come out with below average grades when she left school.  
  
"But if we told your mother..."  
  
Adam cut her off. "Yeah, yeah. I'd get grounded - again, have to endure the lectures - again. I'm used to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. You know which rooms you're staying in, and since you were so /gracious/ to come early, you can make your own beds." With that he stormed into the kitchen, grinding his teeth, and dreading the trouble that Bruce and his older sister were likely to cause.  
  
~*~  
  
Jess caught up with Damon after her Math lesson that afternoon standing beneath a sprawling oak tree in the car park. "Hi." She greeted him as she approached.  
  
He looked at her a little warily before replying. "Hi back."  
  
"I don't bite, you know." She laughed. "You gonna introduce me to your friend?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh. This is my brother, Stefan. Stefan, Jessamyn Webber."  
  
"Just Jess." She said as she shook his hand, a little surprised at the coolness of his skin.  
  
"Hello, Just Jess." He grinned.  
  
"Did you want something?" Damon asked pointedly.  
  
"Uh, yeah. I saw Cookie get mad at you in the cafeteria. I was wondering if everything was okay?" She said, flashing him an odd look.  
  
"Yes. Thanks." He paused a moment. "You know her?"  
  
"Oh yeah. She's my best friend. One of them, anyway."  
  
"Is she always like that."  
  
"What? Assertive? Outspoken? Oh yeah. Biggest mouth in the school. They tried to get her on the Debate team once, and she had a few choice words to say about /that/, too." She grinned. "What did you do?"  
  
"I think we got off on the wrong foot, somehow. Let's just say I found her very...interesting. She took it the wrong way."  
  
Jess's mouth formed an O shape, and she widened her eyes in understanding. "Hey, I'm sure the damage is easily repaired. Cookie's a really forgiving person. Look, tomorrow is Saturday. We're not doing anything. Why don't you both come to my place? We can crash in front of the television, or we could show you around this boring town."  
  
Damon glanced at Stefan. "Well..." He began.  
  
"Aw, c'mon. It'll be fun, and you can get to know some people." She pleaded.  
  
Stefan smiled a little, and made the decision for his brother. "Sure. We'll come."  
  
"Great. Ah, lemme give you the address and phone number." She said, fumbling through her bag. Stefan produced a pen and held it under her nose. "Thanks. Got any paper? My Notebook is trapped."  
  
"Just write it on my hand." He said, holding it out.  
  
"Okay." She said, handing the pen back. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"  
  
"Yeah." Damon replied as she started walking away. "Tomorrow."  
  
  



	3. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Three)  
  
The Webber house was a sprawling affair with lush green gardens surrounding it. It sat near the top of a hill alongside other equally large, and probably equally as expensive houses. All of them backed onto woodland areas - Stefan had explored a small portion of them when they'd first arrived for hunting purposes. Damon had, of course, sneered at the animal blood, but had gone along anyway. Stefan assumed that he'd had nothing better to do.   
  
They rang the doorbell, and waited for the door to be answered. Stefan removed his sunglasses, a move made out of politeness. Damon stared at him a second, and then removed his own, rolling his eyes as the door opened. A tall woman holding a screaming child stood in the doorway. The adult version of Jess was Stefan's immediate reaction.  
  
"Hi. uh..." He stammered, caught off guard by the small child being held upside-down in the woman's arms.  
  
"We're here to see Jess." Damon put in smoothly.  
  
"Sure. You must be Damon and Stefan, huh?" She said, putting down the child. "Jess mentioned you might be stopping by. I'm Hazel Webber, Jess's mom." She held out her hand in greeting, which the brothers shook in turn. She motioned them into the house. "Please, come on through to the kitchen."  
  
"Play swings." The child demanded looking up at Stefan as Hazel closed the door.  
  
He looked a little mortified. "Swings?" He asked.  
  
"Not right now, Lisa honey. Stefan's here to see Jess."  
  
Lisa pouted and turned to Damon. "Swings?"  
  
Damon grinned at Stefan, then scooped the little girl up and swung her gently around by the arms. She started giggling. Hazel shook her head and smiled as she headed into the kitchen, Stefan following behind.  
  
((Isn't Damon supposed to be here to see Jess as well?)) Stefan asked his brother mentally, a little shocked at the ease with which Damon dealt with Lisa.  
  
((But why would I need to see Jess when I have a lovely young virgin right here?))  
  
Stefan stopped in his tracks and threw his brother a look over his shoulder. Damon just grinned at him, placing the girl on his shoulders. "And what can I do to amuse you now, fair maiden?" He asked, and she giggled some more.  
  
Hazel stood at the kitchen counter pouring the contents of a carton of orange juice into a jug. "You're from out of town, huh?" She asked conversationally.  
  
"Uh huh." Stefan replied. "Transferring from a town in Virginia. Needed a fresh start."  
  
"I think I have a cousin who lives in Virginia. Second cousin, several times removed." She smiled. "You don't sound like you come from there."  
  
"We have roots in Italy - lived there as kids."  
  
"Ooh. Nice place. I went to Florence for my Honeymoon." A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. She shook herself a little, and pulled an apple from a bowl brimming with fruit. She placed it on a tray along with a bag of potato chips, the jug of juice and several glasses. "You mind taking this up as you go?" She asked Stefan.  
  
"Not at all." He picked up the tray, and grinned. "Where to?"  
  
"Thanks. Top floor, end of the hall. If you get lost, follow the mess, or the music. And make sure Jess eats that apple."  
  
Damon put Lisa down as Stefan passed. "Another time, Milady." He said, waving goodbye to the crestfallen child.  
  
As Stefan approached the top floor the sound of a guitar and a male singer could be heard clearly.  
  
"/I can go where no-one else can go   
I know what no-one else could know   
Here I am just a drowning in the rain   
With a ticket for a runaway train./"  
  
The music was coming from a room at the end of the hall, its door open halfway. The brothers approached quietly.  
  
"/And everything seems cut and dried   
Day and Night Earth and sky   
Somehow I just don't believe it./"  
  
Damon knocked on the door as Stefan poked his head round. Michael Webber was perched on a battered cushion covered couch. He stopped singing, but continued to pluck at the strings of the guitar he was playing. Soft giggling could be heard coming from a room to the right.  
  
"Hi there and C'mon in. Welcome to the madhouse." He grinned, nodding in greeting to Damon. "I'm Mike." He said, introducing himself to Stefan.  
  
"Stefan." He replied. Mike paused playing long enough to shake his hand.  
  
"Take a seat. Cushion, floor or couch, whatever you're comfortable with."  
  
Damon sat back in the couch, sprawling at the opposite end to Mike. Stefan sat down and dragged a cushion under him. He made himself comfortable and looked around the room. The couch was placed in front of a large window looking out onto the back garden and the woodland. Opposite the window were a television, video player and stereo system resting on a low wooden table, complete with a multitude of tapes and CDs. Above this the wall was lined with shelves filled with books, videos, and music sheets. The two remaining walls were covered with posters and the like. A door in each of those walls led off into two more rooms.  
  
"Bedrooms." Mike informed the vampire. "Mine on the left, Jess's on the right. Where the Girly noises are coming from." He grimaced, then yelled in the direction of his sister's room.  
  
"Hey, Jess. Stefan and Damon are here. You gonna come out and be sociable?"  
  
"Out in a minute." She yelled back.  
  
Mike put his guitar carefully to one side and reached for the glasses and the jug of juice. "How're you enjoying the hell-hole known as school, then?" He asked as he poured juice out and offered it to the guests, who accepted them with a nod of thanks. He frowned a little, then amended himself. "Sorry. Perhaps /enjoy/ is the wrong word. How are you /surviving/ hell?"  
  
"We've been through worse." Damon commented, his lips curving up slightly, amused.  
  
Jess's head poked round her bedroom door before Stefan could comment. A pair of hands pushed Jess's red head down a little, and a blond head peered round over the top. Both girls were grinning widely, covered with glitter. Stefan could smell the glue.  
  
"Had fun, did we children?" Mike asked dryly.  
  
Jess poked her tongue out at him and pulled the blond into the room as she emerged dressed in an oversized black T-shirt and white shorts. "Hi guys." She addressed Stefan and Damon, then gestured to her companion. "Uh, this is Zia. Second to last of our little group. Zia, Stefan and Damon." She said, indicating to them in turn.  
  
Zia sat down on one of the cushions that lay strewn over the floor, smiled a wide smile at the two and flipped a lazy wave. "Greetings and Salutations, guys." The brothers smiled back, Stefan warmly, while Damon flashed one of his rare, dazzling grins.   
  
Stefan reached forward to the tray and scooped up the apple. "Your Mom said to make sure you ate that." Stefan said, smiling, and tossed it over to her with a flick of his wrist.  
  
"She would." Jess grimaced, and shot out a hand to deftly pluck the fruit from the air.  
  
"Nice catch." Damon smiled a charming smile.  
  
Jess took a bite. "Practice." She mumbled round her mouthful, as she wandered over to the stereo player. "You finished playing?" Jess asked her brother, then pressed the play button on the CD player at his nod of confirmation.  
  
"/So, tell me what you want, what you really, really want.../"  
  
Jess screeched out in anger, and slammed down on the stop button. "Spice Whores." She spat. "Aaron's been in here. He dies." She stated, venom in her voice.  
  
"Our ten year old brother, and the only one in this house that actually likes the Spice Girls." Mike said, noticing Stefan's baffled look.  
  
"A hanging offence if ever there was one." Damon nodded solemnly, a trace of a grin on his face.  
  
"Yeah. And you can add being drawn and quartered to that for brat coming here when he's not allowed." Jess cackled, a sadistic gleam to her eye as she rummaged around for another CD.  
  
"Lighten up." Mike flung a potato chip at his sister.   
  
The sound of arguing drifted through the door and caught the attention of the vampires, who both frowned at the door. No-one else heard anything until a few moments later. "Uh oh." Mike muttered, and closed his eyes with a groan.  
  
~*~  
  
"Dammit, Adam, I don't care what you think. Bruce and Lydia are /up/ to something. I feel it, and I don't like it." She frowned in annoyance at her brother.  
  
"Okay, Cookie. I admit that the pair are creepy, amoral, butt- kissing jerks, but you're being paranoid."  
  
Cookie growled and threw up her arms in exasperation before storming into Jess and Mike's sitting room. "Can you believe those creeps? Can you actually /believe/ that my snooty cousins have invited themselves to stay for a whole /week/?" She fumed and threw herself onto the couch next to Mike. Adam stayed at the door, a pained expression on his face. "I mean, who the hell do they think they are?" She turned to the person sitting on her right and froze. *Oh no.* she thought. *This /really/ makes my day complete.* She didn't have the energy to debate this new problem. "What are you doing here?" She asked wearily, rubbing at her temples. She could feel a headache brewing up.  
  
"Well, I happened to mention to Jess here that you and I seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. She suggested that we start again." He smiled.  
  
Cookie glared at him a moment, then turned her stare onto Jess. "This true?"  
  
"Yeah. They're nice guys. I thought you could sort out your differences." Jess shrugged uneasily.  
  
"Did you?" Cookie said flatly, then sighed and shut her eyes. *Nice guys?* She opened one eye and took a good look at Stefan before shutting it again. *Okay, he seems good enough, girl. A little.../odd/, but a decent guy. And when have I ever known Jess to be a bad judge of character? Still...* She tentatively stretched out her feelings to the young man next to her, then drew them back sharply in shock, her eyes flying open to look into his own startled ones.   
  
He was.../different/, she didn't know how, except it had something to do with a hunger she felt. But that wasn't all that had startled her. She'd felt a great deal of pain and anguish from him, boiling inside. It had only just started to heal recently, she noted, but even that was little. *Why does he let it fester?* she wondered.  
  
((They're my emotions. I do with them what I will.)) His voice snapped in her head. Cookie felt quite proud that she still managed to keep an outward appearance of calm.  
  
((What the hell?)) She shot back. She'd never sensed another's thoughts before, let alone had another voice talking in her mind.  
  
((You're telepathic.)) He voice noted to himself dryly. ((And highly psychic, it seems. Lovely.))  
  
((What /are/ you?))  
  
((My business. Not yours.)) He snapped.  
  
((You're talking in my mind and you say its not my business?)) Cookie asked incredulously.  
  
((You're the one who invaded my feelings. I didn't invite you.)) He pointed out.  
  
((Fine. Okay. Whatever. I only did it to find out whether or not I should trust you.))  
  
((You could have just asked me for that.))  
  
((Oh, yeah. Right, and what would you have said.)) She asked sarcastically, narrowing her eyes at him.  
  
((No.))  
  
((No? /No?/)) She hadn't been expecting that.  
  
((Not if you're going to treat me as an enemy. And that's a game you /don't/ want to play. You can trust me on that.)) He sent a mental smirk her way.  
  
((If?))  
  
((As I was saying when you came in, I think we should start again. You intrigue me.))  
  
((At this point /that/ feeling is totally mutual.))  
  
((And you have fire in your soul. I like that. I'd like to get to know you better.))  
  
((Ha. I'll bet.)) She said, feeling self conscious of both his gaze, and the strange looks she was getting from her friends. She sighed mentally. ((I don't believe I'm on the verge of giving In here. How do I know that you're not gonna do anything that'll hurt us?))  
  
((You have my word.)) He stated simply. She had an odd feeling that he was the kind of man to whom keeping his word was a serious matter.   
  
She sighed out loud. "Okay. You have another chance." She said, holding out her hand. He took it and shook it, then let his hand linger for a moment. ((And you can knock that stuff off before you even start. No probing me again without my permission, either.)) Funny, now that she'd done it once, it was easy to speak with her mind.  
  
"A good decision." He smiled arrogantly at her.  
  
Everyone sat in silence for a few moments.  
  
"Uh, so who are you?" Cookie asked.  
  
"Damon Salvatore." He replied, still smiling.  
  
"Stefan." His brother replied softly, his own smile friendly. "Cookie, right?"  
  
She nodded. "And the quiet guy is my pain is the ass little brother, Adam."  
  
"Ha ha." Adam retorted sarcastically before venturing into the room.  
  
"You're the genius that keeps skipping class?" Stefan asked.  
  
"That would be me." Adam confirmed, perching himself on the edge of the stereo table. He stared at the brothers a moment as if considering, then looked away again, grinning to himself slightly. Cookie frowned at him. *What's on /his/ mind?*  
  
"You were saying that the terrible twosome were staying for the week?" Zia asked. "Why? What karmic wrong have we done to deserve it /this/ time?"  
  
"Nothing that I can think of." Cookie snorted.  
  
"Sister dearest is being paranoid. She thinks they're up to some no good underhand scheme." Adam filled them in.  
  
"I wouldn't put it past them." Mike frowned, and Cookie smiled at him before turning to her brother with a look of triumph on her face.  
  
"See! I'm not the only one who thinks it. It's not paranoia."  
  
Mike shrunk back a little under Adam's glare. "I only said I wouldn't put it past them. I didn't actually say they were up to something."  
  
"It's in their eyes." Cookie insisted. The others looked at her sceptically. "Look, when have I been wrong about my /feelings/?"  
  
The others shrugged.  
  
"Well, you haven't so far as I'm aware of." Zia conceded.  
  
"So why do you have a hard time accepting this?" Cookie asked her brother.  
  
"They're only people. I mean, they're awful, but you make them out to be evil.  
  
"Oh, now /that/ I will agree with." Mike nodded.  
  
Stefan broke in. "Uh, who are you talking about?"  
  
"Our cousins." Adam sighed.  
  
"The two most evil people on the planet." Mike intoned, darkly.  
  
((Looks like they knocked you down from first place.)) Stefan quipped at his brother, laughing mentally.  
  
((Your wit astounds me, little brother.)) Damon shot back.  
  
"Not only are they evil," Mike continued, "But they're also scheming, rude and manipulative."  
  
Cookie stared at the brothers, a little wide eyed. ((You can /both/ talk with your minds? And I can hear you, by the way.))  
  
((Damon, why didn't you tell me she was telepathic?))  
  
((What, you didn't guess that she was? You yourself said she was psychic.))  
  
((Quit talking over my head.)) She growled at them. ((Anyway, Damon only figured it five minutes ago. Don't let him fool you.))  
  
((Why is Mike looking puzzled?)) Stefan asked all of a sudden. The red head had stopped speaking, and was frowning.  
  
((Twin thing.)) Cookie explained. ((He and Jess sometimes know what the other is thinking and stuff like that. I guess he might be picking vibrations from this conversation. So maybe we could just talk out loud? Besides which, it's very rude to do this.))  
  
Stefan had the grace to look a little ashamed. "Why is it you hate them so much?" He asked aloud.   
  
Mike shook his head as if to clear it. "Huh? Oh. I fell foul to one of their plans a couple of years back. Ended up with my leg in plaster, and almost got expelled from school. They never once apologised, and they actually /laughed/ at my cast." He sighed.  
  
"What was this plan?" Damon asked curiously.  
  
"Don't want to talk about it." Mike muttered, turning red.  
  
"It's a very embarrassing and sore point with him." Jess explained. "Anyway, to explain the situation without melodrama. Bruce and Lydia are Cookie and Adam's cousins. We hate their guts, to put it simply. They were supposed to stay for the weekend, which is bad enough, but from what I can gather they're staying the whole week. Bad news for us, seeing as we'll probably end up entertaining them if Cookie's mom takes the approach she took last year that the poor little cousins need to be baby-sat."  
  
"So get rid of them." Damon suggested.  
  
Cookie burst out laughing. "Yeah, right. We tried that last year. Tried being polite, bribing them, and even outright hostility. Nothing worked. If you can think of anything that'll work, I'm all ears."  
  
"Actually, I can. I can be quite...persuasive when I want to be." Cookie stared at him, and he smiled back. "Maybe they'll listen to me. Anyhow, I think I'd like to meet them."  
  
Stefan's head thunked defeatedly into the palm of his hand. "What did I do to deserve getting you as a brother?" He shook his head and moaned in despair.  
  
---------  
  
The track 'Runaway Train' belongs to Soul Asylum, from their album 'Gravedancers Union'.  
  
  



	4. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Four)  
  
Debbie's Diner was surprisingly empty for the time of day. Bruce and Lydia had the kind of aura that caused people to leave. The emptier the place was, the less secretive they had to be.  
  
"We're here, what do we do now?" Lydia asked.  
  
/Power. You must gain Power./ The voice hissed in their minds.  
  
"Power? How?" said Bruce.  
  
/Life. The Power of Life./  
  
"You mean...kill someone?" A frown puckered Lydia's brow.  
  
The voice laughed. /Kill many. The more Lifeforce, the more Power you gain. The more Power, the more effective your revenge./  
  
"Live with it, Lydia." Bruce snapped at his sister. He addressed the voice. "How does this help you?"  
  
/The more Power you gain makes it easier for me to regain life. You must get Power to make me all the more powerful./  
  
"Who must we kill?" Lydia whispered.  
  
/That does not matter. So long as they are healthy, their Lifeforce strong./  
  
"Why killing?" Lydia asked. "Isn't there a better way?"  
  
/There are better ways, yes, but much harder to master, and dangerous if done wrong. Killing is the easiest way to get Lifeforce. It releases itself at the point of Death. You must take it into yourselves./  
  
"How do we do that?" Bruce asked.  
  
/Concern yourselves with the harvesting of the Lifeforce. I will gather it./ The voice laughed at Bruce's unconvinced expression. /Together we can accomplish much. But you must learn to /trust/ me. We can do nothing if we do not trust one another./  
  
Bruce and Lydia frowned at each other as the voice retreated. It didn't always stay in their consciousness. It retreated at times as if to sleep.  
  
"I'm not sure about this." Lydia chewed her lip nervously. "Maybe we should find a better way."  
  
"We agreed this /was/ the best way."  
  
"But /killing/? What if we got caught?"  
  
"We won't." Bruce smirked at her.  
  
"You promise?"  
  
"I promise."  
  
Lydia smiled a little, reassured. "Where do we start?"  
  
"As far from our /dear/ cousins as possible. We don't want them to suspect anything. We'd better choose people they don't know very well. Only problem is, we don't /know/ who they hang around with, other than their little clique. Any ideas?"  
  
"The really popular and the really unpopular." Lydia smiled. "And I think we should at least make an attempt on one of their group at some point. We want to make this look random."  
  
"Good idea. When shall we start?"  
  
"Monday. I suggest we also stay a little longer than we said. Perhaps we could even enrol at Redditch High."  
  
"I'm /sure/ Aunt Abby won't mind." Bruce laughed. "Especially considering the problems mother and father are going through."  
  
"And the threat of divorce. You couldn't really /blame/ us for not wanting to be at home." Lydia joined in Bruce's laughter, and the pair rose from their table and left the building.  
  
~*~  
  
"And /this/," Jess stated, gesturing with open arms, "Is Debbie's. The only decent burger bar in town, and where most of the kids hang around. Shall we enter?" She ushered the group through the doors, where the seven of them squeezed into a corner booth.  
  
They'd started out at Adam and Cookie's place in an attempt to find their cousins, only to be told they'd gone out for the afternoon. So Stefan and Damon had received a tour of the town while they searched for Bruce and Lydia.  
  
"You kids ready to order?" A smiling blonde in her late twenties came up to them, her order pad in her hand.  
  
"Hey there, Deb." Cookie grinned. "Meet Stefan and Damon. You guys, meet Deb. The owner of this fine establishment, and one of the best damn cooks in the world."  
  
"Cookie, flattery is not gonna get you a free meal." Debbie laughed. "You want your usual?"  
  
"Uh huh." Cookie nodded. Everyone else agreed.  
  
"We'll have whatever they're having." said Damon.  
  
"Just don't have what Cookie has. She had her taste buds removed in an emergency operation." Mike teased.  
  
"Hey!" Cookie looked offended. "I'm just not a picky eater, that's all."  
  
"'Picky' is not a word /I'd/ use after watching you wolf down a burger." That comment earned Mike a kick beneath the table.  
  
"Where to next?" Jess asked. The group looked at each other.  
  
"Dunno." Zia shrugged. "We could try doubling back on ourselves, maybe. See if they've turned up in places we've looked."  
  
"Or we could just give up and go catch a movie." Mike suggested. "I can't believe we're actually /looking/ for Bruce and Lydia. I'd rather run /away/ from them."  
  
"To another country, maybe." Adam piped up, siding with Mike.  
  
"Hey, Deb." Cookie said as the woman came up with their order. "You seen my demon spawn cousins at all today?"  
  
"Which? The frosty twins?"  
  
"Who else?" Adam muttered.  
  
"You missed 'em by about fifteen minutes. I for one am pleased they left when they did. If they'd stayed much longer I wouldn't have had /any/ customers. Why do you want to /find/ them, anyway?"  
  
"That's what /I/ said." Mike groused.  
  
"Thanks for the info, Deb." Jess said, elbowing her brother, then taking a bite of her burger. "This is good, by the way." She grinned round her mouthful.  
  
"Thanks." Debbie grinned, moving away.  
  
"Deb!" Adam called after her. "Got any jobs going? I'm kinda low on cash at the moment."  
  
"Adam, you know damn well that I'm not allowed to employ you until you start going to school on a regular basis." Deb laughed.  
  
"I /do/!" Adam replied, indignant.  
  
"The idea is you stay there the /whole/ day. Not just the first period." She disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
"Huh." Adam sulked, then brightened up a little, turning to Stefan. "So, why don't you tell us about you?" He asked.  
  
"Uh, sure." Stefan looked a little taken aback. "What do you want to know?"  
  
Adam rested his chin in his palm and grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Hmm. Care to enlighten us why your files say Admin are waiting for files from your old school, yet Robert E. Lee has no mention of Damon and little of you?"  
  
"They must have lost my file." Damon grinned.  
  
"How do you know that, anyway?" Stefan asked.  
  
"He hacked into the system, probably." Cookie said dryly, raising an admonishing brow at her brother, who grinned sheepishly back.  
  
"Does it bother you?" Stefan asked.  
  
"Nope." Adam replied. "Just makes you more interesting." He'd ply them about it at a later date. They weren't being forthcoming at the minute, it seemed.  
  
Stefan frowned. "Anyone ever told you you're weird?"  
  
"Yes." The rest of the group chorused, laughing.  
  
"Anyway, how come you switched schools?" Jess asked, taking a sip of her juice.  
  
"Bad memories." Stefan shifted uncomfortably. "Love gone sour, all that stuff."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"That's okay. We came here for a clean break." Stefan smiled reassuringly at her.  
  
"What about your parents? What do they do?"  
  
"Ah, they died."  
  
"I'm really putting my foot in my mouth here, aren't I?" Jess grimaced.  
  
"It was a long time ago. Don't worry about it."  
  
"So who do you live with?" Adam asked.  
  
"We've rented an apartment."  
  
"On your own? How the hell did you manage that? Aren't you a little young?" Adam was astounded.  
  
Damon tapped the end of his nose with his forefinger. "Wouldn't you like to know." He grinned, then relented. "People overlook anything if you pay the right amount of money. We have money." He shrugged.  
  
"Lucky bastards." Jess grinned, popping a fry into her mouth. "Ya know, I'm beginning to think Adam and Mike are right. We have plenty of time to find the terrible twosome, and we have only one Saturday a week. I think we should go see a movie."  
  
Zia laughed. "Yeah. A horror. Something with witches in so we can have a gas over Cookie yelling at the screen."  
  
"She yells at the screen?" Stefan asked.  
  
"Oh yeah. She's been known to throw her soda cup at it before." The blonde grinned.  
  
"Why? Does insanity run in your family or something?" Stefan asked, eyeing Cookie warily.  
  
"Yeah. Wanna make something of it?" She laughed, crossing her eyes at him.  
  
"Cookie's a witch." Zia supplied. "She gets pissed off when the media paints a bad picture of them."  
  
"Now, /that/ explains a lot." Damon said, staring at Cookie. ((Psychic, a witch, anything else you want to tell us?))  
  
((Yeah. Butt out of my head.)) She replied, sending him a mental raspberry.  
  
"Got any preferences on movies that you want to see?" Jess asked the brothers.  
  
"Yes. Anything without vampires in it." Damon muttered, finishing off his burger. Cookie stared at him suspiciously, and he grinned back innocently. Everyone else let the comment pass without a second thought.  
  
~*~  
  
Stefan sat by the window in the apartment he shared with Damon, looking out over the town and up at the crescent moon hanging high overhead. "You don't think we're making a mistake?" He asked as Damon came out of his room.  
  
"In what way?"  
  
"Jess. Cookie. Those guys. I felt like I fitted in this evening, and I keep thinking that maybe I'm letting myself get too close."  
  
"You worry too much." Damon sighed.  
  
"Maybe. But I'm serious here. What would happen if they found out? I can see them being real friends, and I don't wanna lose them. I don't want to use them, either."  
  
Damon stared at his brother for a few moments, the shook his head. "Soft hearted idiot." He sighed again. "If it bothers you that much, tell them if they /do/ become friends. But do me a favour. Wait until you're /sure/ they're friends. And that we're not going to be making this a quick stop."  
  
Stefan frowned a little. "You think they can be trusted?"  
  
"For what it's worth, yes. Besides which, Cookie already suspects something is...different about us. They trust her opinion. If she thinks we're okay, they'll accept that."  
  
"Okay." Stefan nodded.  
  
"I'm off out hunting. You coming?" Damon asked.  
  
"Do you even have to ask?" Stefan flashed a whimsical grin.  
  
"Ah, I can only keep trying. Perhaps one day you might learn to have fun and give in to your darker side."  
  
"Dream on, Damon." Stefan laughed.  
  
"If you don't have dreams, you don't have anything to come true." Damon said, heading out of the door.  
  
"Very philosophical." Stefan muttered, and turned back to the view.  
  
  



	5. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Five)  
  
The hallway was crowded with students on the following Monday morning. Stefan stifled a yawn and pulled his chemistry book out of his locker. Mornings were /not/ his best time of day.  
  
"Excuse me, but I think that you're blocking my locker." The voice was snooty, and his senses were tingling, telling him to be wary.  
  
Stefan turned. "Sorry." He said to the blonde standing behind him.  
  
"That's quite alright." The smile was cold. "Lydia. Lydia Franklin."  
  
"Stefan Salvatore." He replied, alarm bells ringing.  
  
"I'm new here, perhaps you could show me the way round?" She asked.  
  
"Sorry. I'm new too, and my sense of direction is appalling. I'm still looking for my Friday afternoon math class." He replied, beating a hasty retreat, heading for his chemistry class.  
  
"Maybe another time?" She called after him, almost batting her lashes.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Maybe." He yelled back, then muttered to himself, "Over my unbreathing body."  
  
He got to chemistry before the teacher, and moved towards a bench at the back of the room. "Mind if I sit here?" He asked Zia, grinning.  
  
"Stefan! Hi." She grinned, shifting her books from the empty space. "Sure, take a seat. How ya doing?"  
  
"I hate mornings. Other than that, I'm great." He chuckled.  
  
"Cool." She smiled.  
  
"Although, I think I had a run in with Cookie's cousin, Lydia."  
  
Zia frowned. "What, here?"  
  
"Outside my locker. Apparently hers is next to mine. I think I need to get a new one."  
  
"Wait, wait. Back up. /She/ has a locker? Why?" Zia was confused.  
  
"Yeah. She says she's new here."  
  
"Oh, /great/." Zia's head thunked onto the bench.  
  
"If Bruce is anything like his sister, I can see why you guys don't like them."  
  
"Oh, he is." Zia groaned. "And Lydia finished school last year. What's she doing enrolling here?"  
  
"Maybe she wants to improve her grades?"  
  
"Maybe she wants to make our lives a misery. You think Cookie knows?"  
  
"How would I know?" He shrugged. "They're staying with Cookie and Adam, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I guess they /have/ to know, then?"  
  
"You'd think. But I think it would have been decent of them to have at least /warned/ us."  
  
"Maybe she doesn't know, then." Stefan shrugged as the teacher walked in.  
  
Zia grimaced and whispered to him. "You any good at chemistry?"  
  
"I can pass." He replied. "Why?"  
  
"You got the time to help me? I'm heading for an F in this, and I gotta pull that up to a D or they'll move me into the thick class."  
  
"Sure. That make us Lab partners?"  
  
"Cool." Zia nodded, smiling gratefully. They turned their attention the teacher and concentrated on the lesson, Zia frowning in confusion most of the time.  
  
~*~  
  
"They're /what/?!" Cookie exploded. There weren't enough people in the cafeteria to cause a scene, but Stefan still couldn't help feeling self conscious.  
  
"Here." Zia replied calmly. Stefan admired her for that. Cookie exploding was a hard thing to stay calm in front of.  
  
"Why?" Cookie squeaked. "Oh, don't answer that. I /know/ why. They're brewing up trouble. Probably for me." She growled. Stefan winced as she picked up her dinner knife and started to stab at a bread roll.  
  
"Calm down." Zia pulled the knife from Cookies white-knuckled grip.  
  
"I can't." She hissed. "You know what this means? We're /stuck/ with them. I have to /live/ with them."  
  
"You could be over-reacting here." Zia pointed out.  
  
"Oh yeah? Who bothers to enrol in a new school for a /week/? Especially when they don't /need/ to go to school."  
  
"She has a point." Stefan said quietly. "And I agree that they're up to something. Lydia at least. There's /something/ not...right about her." He shrugged. Cookie shot him a grateful look for the support.  
  
"We have to tell the others yet, you know." Zia moaned.  
  
"Damn. Adam is gonna freak. He'll kill them." The blue-haired girl cursed.  
  
"We can only hope." Zia muttered. "Why don't you turn them into frogs or something?"  
  
"Ha ha." Cookie grimaced. "I wish I could. I really wish I could." She looked up as the rest of the group, including Damon, approached the table. "Hi guys." She said glumly. "Got some bad news. About the terrible twosome."  
  
"We have worse." Jess said, seating herself next to Stefan, face pale. She was trembling, he noticed.  
  
"What's wrong?" Zia asked, suddenly concerned.  
  
"They just found Tatum Kent in the girls shower." Jess grimaced. "Dead. Her throat's been slit."  
  
Stefan and Damon exchanged a glance. *Throat slit?* Stefan thought to himself. *This is bad news.*  
  
"I can't believe it happened." Jess choked out. "I only left her five minutes before. She was /fine/ then." She began trembling even more now, the shock hitting her hard. Stefan pulled her to him in a light hug. She burst into tears on his shoulder. Cookie stared at her wide eyed.  
  
((What?)) Stefan asked.  
  
((She never does that. Never. Man, this has really shaken her up.)) Cookie replied.  
  
"Who is Tatum Kent, exactly?" Damon asked softly.  
  
"Cheerleader." Adam replied absently, pale himself. "Real popular, but nice. Likeable. Didn't treat the 'common' people like lepers."  
  
"Good looking?" Stefan asked, throwing a brief look at his brother.  
  
"She was a cheerleader. She was good looking." said Zia.  
  
((/I/ didn't do it.)) Damon told his brother, careful to block Cookie out. The fact she knew they were talking was bad enough at the minute.  
  
((I didn't really think you did.)) Stefan sighed. ((But you have to admit a slit throat /is/ suggestive of a covered up vampire attack.))  
  
((You aren't suggesting a /vampire/ did this, are you?)) Damon's mental voice was tinged with amusement. Jess's tears had stopped, but she was hiccupping into Stefan's neck now. He shifted his position slightly and rocked her gently.  
  
((No, I don't think a vampire did it. But someone might.))  
  
Damon frowned. ((Which could eventually lead to a sticky situation for us. Damn.))  
  
((We're not leaving.)) Stefan said firmly. Damon looked at him and arched a brow. ((/I'm/ not. You can if you like.)) Stefan amended.  
  
((I think I'll stick around, if it's all the same to you.)) Damon replied, looking away. Stefan hid a proud smile in Jess's hair, then quickly changed his expression to one more suited to the situation.  
  
"We have to stick around then?" He asked. "For questioning?"  
  
Mike blinked, waking himself from his thoughts before replying. "They want Jess's Gym group. And anyone who was out of class." He said, glancing at Adam.  
  
"I was in class." He assured his friend. "For once."  
  
"Good." Mike nodded. "They don't want anyone to leave the grounds yet, just in case. We're all supposed to go to our next class and stay there."  
  
"I wanna stick with you guys." Jess mumbled.  
  
"You all come to my drama class, then." Zia suggested. "There's plenty of room for a few extra. We'll just let your teachers know where you are. They shouldn't mind."  
  
The group moved slowly from the cafeteria, Jess walking between Stefan and Mike for support.  
  
"Sorry." Jess muttered mutely from beside Stefan.  
  
"For what?" He frowned.  
  
"For breaking down like that. I'm really embarrassed."  
  
"Don't be. You've had a shock."  
  
There was silence for a few moments.  
  
"Should have been me." Jess said softly.  
  
"Huh? How'd you figure that?"  
  
"She was putting the netballs back. I was supposed to do that, but she offered to 'cos I had to go see the nurse. So it should have been me."  
  
"What's happened has happened. It wasn't you, and you shouldn't be getting cut up over the fact you're alive."  
  
"Maybe. But if it'd been me, no-one would be dead."  
  
"You can't be sure of that."  
  
Jess looked up at him, anguish plastered over her face. "But /I/ could have protected myself. I could've beaten the crap out of them, I could have got away. Tatum didn't stand a chance." She wailed. Stefan looked at her sympathetically. "Oh, forget it." She tried to wipe away the threatening tears with her sleeve, but it didn't work. She got up and ran out of the room before Stefan could say anything else.  
  
"What was that all about?" He asked, turning to Zia in confusion.  
  
Zia looked at Cookie, who nodded and ran after Jess before answering. "Jess is into self defence. She's a black belt in judo and karate, and has tried her hands at a couple of other things. She's right. If it /had/ been her, chances are our killer would be in need of hospital attention right now." She shrugged. "She'll get over it. And anyway, I don't think it would have mattered. If they hadn't have gotten Tatum, they'd've got some other defenceless schmuck. They knew not to attack Jess."  
  
"You're saying it was a psychotic student?"  
  
"Have to be. Strangers are pretty conspicuous round here. We notice them easily - and if you got no reason to be here, might as well wear a sign saying 'Murder Suspect Number One'." She paused. "Sorry. that was probably in bad taste."  
  
"New student?"  
  
"Not many of those. You and Damon, couple of other transfers and then the usual batch of kids up from Junior High. Everyone is established kind of. You and Damon were late comers, but you have alibis. Besides, Cookie trusts you." She mustered a weak grin.  
  
Stefan smiled briefly. "Bruce and Lydia?"  
  
"Creeps, but cowards. I don't see either of them having the guts to do it."  
  
"I don't know. There was /something/ about Lydia."  
  
"Oh, now I didn't say that they wouldn't think about it. I'm sure they wouldn't think twice about doing it, and they sure as hell wouldn't feel guilty. No, they wouldn't do it in case they got /caught/. Like I said. Cowards."  
  
"People aren't always what they seem." He muttered.  
  
Zia looked at him strangely. "No, I guess not."  
  
~*~  
  
The bathroom was virtually empty when Cookie poked her head round looking for Jess. The two kids in there took one look at Cookie, then a cubicle, and smiled sympathetically before leaving tactfully. Cookie smiled, nodding her thanks. She positioned herself outside the cubicle and started scuffing the toe of her sneaker on the floor. The rubber tip produced an annoying squeak each time it connected with the shiny tiles.  
  
"Go away." Jess sniffled from inside the cubicle.  
  
"No." Cookie said firmly.  
  
"I don't want to talk." Cookie waited for a few moments, and almost smiled when Jess spoke again. "It should have been me." She said pitifully.  
  
"No it shouldn't. And don't talk that way. As cold and callous as this may sound, I'd rather it was Tatum than you."  
  
"I could have protected myself." She replied stubbornly.  
  
"Yeah, so the bastard wouldn't have gone after you. They were probably waiting for some weakling, Tatum came along, and she just happened to be doing a job for you."  
  
"Yeah, for /me/. If I'd done it, no-one would be dead."  
  
"Bullshit. Only difference is it would probably have been a different person, probably after school, and they'd probably have stashed the body. At least we know there's a lunatic on the loose now."  
  
Jess unlocked the cubicle and peered round, her face red and blotchy. Her eyeliner had smeared a little from where she'd rubbed her eyes. "You don't blame me?"  
  
"No. And neither does anyone else."  
  
"Tatum would."  
  
"Somehow, I don't think so. You see things differently on the other side." She pulled Jess into a hug. "Besides which, she'd probably be ecstatic with the attention she's getting."  
  
Jess mustered a weak smile. "I guess."  
  
"You need me to tell you you're being a soppy fool?"  
  
"You just did."  
  
"Well, now you know for sure. Come on. Toughen up. The Jess I know wouldn't go to pieces over this. She'd be calm and collected."  
  
"We all have our off days."  
  
"What did you have to go to the nurse for, anyway?"  
  
"Dizzy spells." Jess grimaced. "Nothing to worry about, though." She hastily assured her friend.  
  
"OK. So I guess it's just one big emotional overload for you today, huh?"  
  
"Yeah. I just wanna crawl back into my bed."  
  
"How about crawling back up to the drama studio with me?"  
  
"Ok." Jess nodded.  
  
"Just clean your face up first." She pointed to the mirror. Jess gave a little mock shriek, and started to wipe her face.  
  
~*~  
  
"I can't believe we're gonna be dealing with Bruce and Lydia on a daily basis." Mike complained.  
  
"Hey, at least you don't have to /live/ with them." Adam snapped.  
  
"So-orry." Mike snapped back.  
  
"Quit it, you guys." Zia ordered. "We shouldn't be arguing with each other."  
  
"Maybe we need to talk about something else." Damon suggested. They all looked at him. He'd been quiet for a while.  
  
"Like what? It's this, or Tatum." Adam pointed out.  
  
"He's right." Jess said. "We need to be doing something else. Take our minds of things. I /know/ I do. I'm still waiting for the police to question me, and it's making my stomach knot just thinking about."  
  
"So what do we do?" Adam asked.  
  
"Homework?" Cookie suggested, glaring pointedly at him.  
  
"Like they're gonna want it in after this. Chances are we won't even /be/ at school tomorrow."  
  
"We are." Stefan put in. "I overheard Miss Holling and Mr Keach talking about it a little while ago." He explained. Adam's face fell.  
  
"So you could do your homework and get it out of the way. With your brains you'll have it out of the way in no time." Cookie grinned smugly.  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Adam grumbled, pulling some books out of his bag.  
  
"I'll help you with that chemistry now, if you like." Stefan offered to Zia, who smiled gratefully.  
  
Cookie pulled out a notepad and settled back in her seat.  
  
"What's the deal with you and Adam?" Damon asked, appearing suddenly at her side. She jump only a little.  
  
"What?"  
  
"How come you're in the same year? You're not twins."  
  
"Uh, we were born in the same school year." She muttered vaguely, uncomfortable with the question. She didn't elaborate any more.  
  
"That ends that topic of discussion." He stared absently at the ceiling for a few moments before looking back. "What are you doing?" He asked, pointing to her pad.  
  
"Writing." She said distractedly.  
  
"Writing what?"  
  
She put the pen down, and glared at him. "Are you going to keep bugging me?"  
  
"Just trying to be friendly." Damon said holding his hands up in defeat and flashing a smile.  
  
"Sorry." Cookie sighed. "Uh, what I'm doing is interpreting dreams."  
  
"Dreams."  
  
"Yeah. You should always keep an eye on your dreams. They tell you a lot."  
  
"Mine don't."  
  
"I'm sure they do."  
  
"I don't dream."  
  
"Oh, come on. /Everyone/ dreams."  
  
"I don't. Or very rarely, anyway."  
  
"Hmm." Cookie arched a brow at him. He ignored it.  
  
"So what's this one about?"  
  
"Not much. Although I keep having dreams of crows lately." She frowned as Damon tried to hide a startled flinch. *What's that about?* She wondered, but put it to the back of her mind for the moment.  
  
"What does that mean?" Damon asked politely.  
  
"Normally, a crow is a bird of ill omen, foretelling death, bad times to come."  
  
"So, don't trust the crow." He looked a little bitter as he said this.  
  
Something clicked in Cookie's mind. "That's not it. Well, not in this case. I think that in this case the crow isn't a symbol in itself, but more a representation of a person."  
  
"Oh?" Damon asked, his attention fully on her now, expression openly interested.  
  
"Yeah. Part of my dream is that there's this Power threatening me, and it's /bad/. I know I can't beat it, but I stand up to it anyway, fighting it, refusing to submit to it. It sends this bolt of dark energy towards me, and I know that I'm gonna die. Then Death itself swoops in to claim me in the form of a crow. Time with the dark Power stops, and it's just me and the crow. It flies straight at me, going for the kill as it were, and I fling my arms up to protect myself. Then something inside me tells me to put my arms down, to /trust/ what's coming at me to kill me, so I do. And the crow rears up inches from my face, and it's almost like it's smiling at me, only sort of compassionate, caring. Then time starts again, and the crow flies at the Power, taking the dark energy for me. The evil Power is defeated, and leaves, drained, and then the crow falls to the ground." She paused, lost in thought. "And I wake up." She finished abruptly.  
  
"Very dramatic." Damon commented dryly. "You have this dream a lot?"  
  
"Several nights over the past three weeks. Including last night" She replied.  
  
"So, you've interpreted this as?"  
  
"A lesson to quit eating pizza before bedtime."  
  
"Ha ha. I'm being serious."  
  
"Sorry. I'm used to people humouring me out of politeness. If you're really interested, it's telling me I can trust the crow with my life."  
  
"That it?"  
  
"Nope. I gotta prove that I'm /willing/ to trust the crow, that I'm not afraid of it, no matter what. That's what the moving my arms from my face is about."  
  
"And what happens to the crow?"  
  
"I said I woke up." She said shortly.  
  
"But /I/ think you know anyway."  
  
She stared at him a moment. "There are two possibilities." She said finally. "And they revolve around trust, and another character."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"A falcon."  
  
Damon sighed a little. "Go on." He urged reluctantly.  
  
"This is a part of a dream I had on Saturday night, only in this dream, the Power returns a little after the crow defeats it.  
  
"After the crow falls, a falcon flies onto the scene. It lands, and the crow and the falcon face each other, the falcon offering support, to face the evil with the crow, prepared to die with it, for it. They're at a cross-roads. In one direction, the crow refuses the aid of the falcon, facing the Power itself. It still defeats the power, saving me from death, but it pays the price with it's own life."  
  
"The other road?" Damon wet his lips.  
  
"The crow and the falcon accept a bond that has grown between them, and in doing so, the crow chooses to take the help the falcon is offering. Together they confront the Power, defeating it easily with their own Powers combined. And both the crow and the falcon live, facing a fresh start with their trust in each other." She frowned a little. "And their love for one another."  
  
They were silent for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts, before Damon spoke again. "This is all supposition, of course." His asked, his complexion paler than it normally was. He was seemingly shaken.  
  
"It was," She eyed him closely. "Then I met the crow."   
  
"Oh?" He stared at her through narrowed eyes.  
  
"You." She said simply.  
  
"Me?" He laughed nervously. "Perhaps you /should/ stop eating pizza before bedtime."  
  
"It's you. Believe it or don't, but I do, and that's all that matters." She shrugged.  
  
"Alright then. If you say so." He said sceptically, shaking his head. He looked at the floor for a moment. "I was under the impression dreams changed once you got the message. Yet you had this one last night? And there I was, thinking that you trusted me."  
  
"I do. And I'm not afraid of you, either. Or rather, I'm not afraid of what I /know/ of you. You're hiding something. You've got a deep dark secret that I /should/ perhaps be afraid of. Who knows if I will be or not. I'll have to wait and find out."  
  
"Who says you /will/ find out." He smiled at her, drawing back behind a mask of arrogance. He got up to leave. *Damn,* She thought, */Idiot/. You should have steered clear of that topic. He was just warming up.*  
  
"I'll find out sometime." She called after him. "My dream tells me that much."  
  
Damon stopped and turned round. The look of anger and desolation on his face sent a ripple of icy fear up and down her spine. "Trust me. You really /don't/ want to know my secret." He said, and she believed him. Oh God, she believed him. He stalked out of the room. Cookie watched him go, and noticed Stefan watching too, bewilderment showing openly on his face. He looked over at her, and she looked down at her notepad quickly to avoid his gaze. *Did he hear us?* She wondered.  
  
~*~  
  
Damon stormed through the empty school corridors. He was shaken. He felt vulnerable, and he didn't /like/ feeling vulnerable. It made him weak, and Damon Salvatore, Prince of Darkness, was /not/ weak. He used the feelings as fuel for anger against himself, then the world, then Cookie. But his mind went in loops, and, for once, he was unable to stay angry at the girl. It wasn't her fault. He was the one that asked /her/. He growled at himself in frustration. He needed to hunt. He needed the thrill of the chase. He needed to reassert his feelings of power, because powerful was something he'd lost his grip on back there. He headed for the main entrance.  
  
"Sorry, son, but you can't leave." A cop said, placing a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. Damon turned, growled, and threw the hand off before storming past and through the door. He paused as an afterthought and turned.  
  
"Forget I was ever here." He said, sending a forceful burst of Power with it. The cop blinked, confused, not seeing Damon anymore. Then he winced, putting his hand to his head, muttering about a headache. He hadn't needed to use that much Power. He'd done it out of spite, something to prove he was still the old Damon. *But why do you need to prove it at all?* He asked himself. *Because you /aren't/ the old Damon anymore?* He growled again. *So what am I? The new model caring-sharing Damon for the nineties? Oh, puh-/lease/. Choke on your own sentimentality, why don't you.* He started running for the woods, driving his thoughts away from his inner-self, to safer topics to cause anger.  
  
Stefan.  
  
Oh, yes, how /wonderful/. He was supposed to put his trust in /that/ weakling? Then again, trust wasn't the problem. He could be /trusted/ alright, what with that annoying code of honour he followed. The problem was that Damon didn't /want/ to rely on Stefan. He didn't want to rely on anyone. Admitting to Stefan that he needed him was not an appealing thought. He wouldn't want to give his brother the satisfaction. As for /love/. The thought was repulsive. *But you /do/ love him.* His mind threw at him cruelly. *You /care/. You showed that when Elena came back, when he was dying. You didn't /want/ to lose him then, and you want that even less now.* He scowled. He was even against himself now. He stopped in the middle of the woods, panting a little and leaned against a tree to rest a moment. He opened his senses for anything to run after and kill, but his mind mocked him. *Looking for something to kill? What about that building full of people back there? Why didn't you go on a killing spree? Revel in the blood of some screaming and fearful /humans/. You're getting as bad as Stefan. You're starting to /care/ about them. He stood up straight and screamed at the sky.  
  
"I don't give a damn, you here? I don't give a damn about /anyone/ except myself! Not them, not anyone. Especially not my brother!" He stood like that for a minute before slipping down the tree, and sitting with his head in his hands. *Who are you trying to kid?* He asked himself. *If you don't care, why are you here? Why did you move here with Stefan? Why are you living with him? Why are you bothering with this dumb school idea? You never liked it in the first place, you're just doing this to /please/ him. If you weren't, you'd leave. Now, this minute. It's not safe to stick in a place where a murders happened.*  
  
But deep within, Damon had to admit that he couldn't leave. That he didn't want to. *Five centuries of not giving a damn are finally getting to you. It's all very well not caring for anyone. but who've you had to care about you? No-one. And then you start to get on with your brother, your only link with the past.* He squeezed his eyes shut. *Can I /really/ blame myself for letting it happen.* He sighed.  
  
"Alright, dammit." He whispered angrily. "I care, alright. I /do/ give a damn." He sat for a few moments, not thinking. And he caught the scent of a deer. He grinned savagely, and set off in pursuit.  
  
"Of course," He told the woodland in general, "I'm only going to admit that to /myself/. No need to let anyone else know."  
  
He whooped and laughed loudly, concentrating on the chase, letting his nature take over his senses.  
  
~*~  
  
It was late, nearing midnight. They sat in silence. Stefan wasn't entirely sure why he was there, except that he'd found himself being dragged back by the group. Not that he'd protested. They were in Adam's attic bedroom. Large, sprawling and spacious, there were windows facing south, east and west, with heavy drapes to cover them. Right now they were open, letting moon and starlight in. Stefan sat in the window seat of the south facing window, Cookie in the west. Zia, Jess and Mike sat on Adam's large bed. Adam himself was pounding away at the keyboard of a computer that sat on a long bench on the north wall. It was littered with what looked like spare computer parts and various electronic appliance innards.  
  
None of them knew where Damon had gotten to for the rest of the day, and Stefan was beginning to worry. He wasn't sure if he was more worried about his brother, or the population of Redditch in general. He was also worried about the murder. Events at Fell's Church had warned him that murders seemed to get pinned on the new kid, and he didn't like what the cause of death indicated. All it needed was another Alaric Saltzman to come along and make links that weren't there, and Stefan and Damon could be the target of a witch-hunt. *Or rather vampire hunt.* He grinned to himself, looking at their own resident witch, Cookie. He was pleased to notice that Jess had calmed down considerably. The questioning had been routine, and she'd been out relatively quickly.  
  
"Adam, would you please /stop/ that racket." Cookie yelled finally, the strain getting to her.  
  
"It's taking my mind off things." Her brother replied without looking up.  
  
"Well tap quietly then." She snapped. Then, after a moment. "What are you doing, anyway?"  
  
"Just surfing the 'Net." He shrugged.  
  
"Duh. The caterwauling that thing produces when you log on gave that little revelation away. I /meant/ what were you looking at."  
  
"Porn sites, probably." Mike snickered. Adam to looked up long enough to give the other boy a filthy look before turning his attention back to the screen.  
  
"I'm downloading a graphics program if you /really/ want to know."  
  
"Uh huh. Would that be a shareware copy, or are you stealing a copy."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Stealing. Or one of those '30 day trial' offers that you'll keep on using afterwards."  
  
"Don't they have passwords and shit that lock you out of those?" Zia inquired.  
  
"On some, yeah." Adam muttered.  
  
"I guess he just re-installs them after the 30 days are up." Cookie shrugged.  
  
Adam smirked. "Gee, you are so uneducated when it comes to computers, aren't you? Ah, the joys of hacks, cracks, and serial number generators."  
  
"Which are probably illegal." Cookie noted dryly.  
  
"How does it feel to have a criminal for a brother?" Jess laughed at Adam's sheepish grin.  
  
"So long as he doesn't drag me down with him, he can break into Fort Knox for all I care."  
  
Adam looked round at the group. "Now, /there's/ an idea." He beamed, doing a veritable impression of the Cheshire Cat.  
  
"You could do that?" Stefan asked, surprised.  
  
"If it's on a computer system, chances are I can get into it."  
  
"You could get into police files?" He asked, his mind whirring.  
  
"Yeah." Adam said swivelling his chair round to look at the vampire. "You want the Tatum Kent file, huh?"  
  
Stefan nodded. "If it's on the computer yet."  
  
"It should be. I doubt the autopsy report'll be in yet - cause of death being kind of obvious they might take their time. But I'll still give it a go. Leave me to it, and I might even pull the autopsy for you by tomorrow." He frowned. "Why are you so interested in it? The police'll release the details soon enough." Adam said.  
  
"I just think that the killer won't stop at Tatum." Stefan replied. *And by the time they release the details, it may be too late for myself and Damon. I just want to make sure there's nothing to worry about.* He added to himself uneasily.  
  
~*~  
  
Damon was sitting on the couch flicking through the television channels when Stefan got back from Adam's at one in the morning.  
  
"What time do you call this?" Damon smirked. "Tomorrow's a school day."  
  
"Then why are you still up?" Stefan shot back, flopping down unceremoniously next to his brother. "What's on?" He asked.  
  
"Umpteen million channels, and you have to ask 'what's on?'"  
  
"Nothing?" Stefan hazarded.  
  
"How'd you guess." He replied, flipping the remote to Stefan.  
  
"Man, and we /pay/ for this?" He asked, flicking through half-heartedly. He gave up and started rummaging under the couch for the TV guide.  
  
"What's more worrying is that we're actually sitting here watching it /despite/ complaining." Damon commented.  
  
"You didn't think to rent something out?"  
  
"I only got in an hour ago. Most rental stores aren't as nocturnal we are, and the ones that are I doubt you'd be interested in, anyway."  
  
"Where did you get to this afternoon, anyway?" Stefan asked, ignoring the jibe.  
  
"Nowhere." Damon said, his voice clipped.  
  
"Nowhere? You practically stormed out of the place."  
  
"I said nowhere, I mean nowhere." Damon growled, getting up from the couch. "It's none of your business." He said, stomping into his room and slamming the door behind him. Stefan winced a little. *Nice move, Stefan.* He chided himself. Music started blaring loudly from behind Damon's closed door. Stefan grimaced and decided to go back out for a while, not wanting to face the neighbours on the floor below when they came up to complain.  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Six)  
  
Stefan yawned. Tuesday. Just over a week of living there, and he'd managed to fall in with a close knit group of friends, get established at school and meet a weird psychotic cousin of one of said friends. Things were going well. If you excused the murder. One week into what would hopefully be a long stay, and already trouble was brewing. It had taken far longer at Fell's Church. And to think humans normally led mundane lives. He wasn't sure what he and Damon did to attract unusual people, but they'd been doing it on a regular basis lately. Surprisingly, despite all this and last night's tension, he was still on good terms with his brother. The music had stopped when he got back later that night and when he'd gotten up that morning, Damon was seated in the kitchen reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. Stefan had been slightly taken aback by the fact his brother was in a good mood, and had commented on it.  
  
"Any reason I shouldn't be?" Damon had replied, politely.  
  
"I guess not. Just after last night...you want to talk about it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay." Stefan had known not to push this time. "Just remember, I'm here for you if you /do/ want to talk." He hadn't waited for Damon's reply. Instead he picked up his school bag and headed out of the door, uncomfortably aware of Damon's thoughtful stare on him as he left.  
  
He yawned again and deftly spun in the code to his locker - a new locker. He'd been to student services that morning to change it. He was too tired to be overly bothered by the fact that he'd used his Powers to get what he wanted. He chalked that up to either Damon's bad influence, or the fact that Lydia was too weird by even /his/ standards to want to see on a daily basis. He chose the latter. He wasn't sure he wanted Damon being proud of him for misuse of Power. *Of course, if you stay friends with Cookie and Adam, chances are you'll be seeing Lydia on a regular basis, too.* He didn't relish the thought. He hadn't met Bruce yet, and if Lydia was anything to go by, he didn't want to.  
  
"You moved lockers? Very sensible." Adam noted, sauntering up to him.  
  
"My God, you're here." Stefan feigned a heart attack and grinned. Adam rolled his eyes, but grinned back anyway. The started walking down the hall.  
  
"Yeah. Cookie was muttering about the three-fold law last night and Bruce and Lydia getting what's coming to them."  
  
"What does that have to do with school?"  
  
"I had this horrible vision of that applying to me. I'd end up spending eternity chained to a desk in Mrs Barclay's art room." He grinned.  
  
Stefan chuckled. "I doubt that would put you off."  
  
"Well, no. Mom's muttering about if I don't go I might as well pull out and get a full time job."  
  
"You wouldn't want that?"  
  
"Hell no. I may be a genius, but I'm also incredibly lazy."  
  
"What do you want to do then?"  
  
"Mess around for a couple of years, then get some high paid computer programming job. If Bill Gates can do it, then so can I."  
  
"Bill Gates?" Stefan was puzzled.  
  
"You know. Microsoft...Windows and all that shit."  
  
"Ah, I'll take your word for it." Stefan grinned apologetically.  
  
"Geesh. You'd think you'd be living in the Dark Ages to not know that."  
  
"More like the Renaissance." Stefan laughed softly.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Nothing. I just meant I was a technological idiot, but not a total technophobe." Stefan covered the slip quickly.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Hey, I can program the video recorder!" The vampire defended himself jokingly.  
  
"That's good." Adam nodded. "I can't."  
  
"You're kidding?"  
  
"Nope. Our video hates me for some reason. It won't do anything when I set it. I think it doesn't like me because it thinks I want to take it apart." He laughed, then cackled evilly. "Just wait until I get my hands on it when Mom buys a new one." He stabbed at the air while making the Psycho sound effects.  
  
Stefan laughed. Then, after a few moments of companionable silence, "You get anything from the police?"  
  
Adam's mood darkened. "Yeah. Interesting stuff." He looked at his watch. "We don't have the time to go through it now. How about we meet up in the library at lunch?"  
  
"Sure, okay." Stefan replied.  
  
"Great. I'm gonna head off for history now. Seeya then."  
  
"Seeya." Stefan replied, and set off for his literature class.  
  
~*~  
  
"I didn't like Henry V when Shakespeare first wrote it." Stefan was pulled out of his mindless stupor when Damon leaned over to him, speaking quietly.  
  
"/If/ he wrote it." Stefan grinned back. "What are we doing now?"  
  
Damon rolled his eyes. "Act five, scene two. Discuss in detail Henry's speech 'Marry, if you would put me to verses' up to 'speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee'. We have twenty minutes. So do you want to get whatever happens to be on your chest off it?"  
  
"Uh, and what about the work?"  
  
"Who cares? It's that sickly scene where Henry professes undying love to someone he's only just met. Highly unrealistic, filled with idiotic imagery. You've only got to read it through once and you can bluff your way through it." He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Out with it."  
  
"Out with what?" Stefan scowled.  
  
"Whatever's been bugging you since the lesson started."  
  
Stefan sighed. "The murder."  
  
"/That/?" Damon laughed loudly. He ignored the look the teacher shot him. "Is that all?"  
  
"You could be a little more worried." He said quietly, aware of the other students around him. ((Don't you find it odd that a murder happens only a week after we turn up?))  
  
((Coincidence.))  
  
((Still dangerous. All we need is the wrong person to start asking the wrong questions and it could start finger pointing at us.))  
  
((Alright. So there's a risk. But it's minimal. Stop worrying - the police are going to write this off as a psycho on the loose. They'll find the person doing this, put him in a mental institute...))  
  
((/Him/ in the girls showers?))  
  
((Peeping Tom, perhaps. Anyway. Boy, girl, androgynous being - they'll catch it, and then we'll be virtually safe again.))  
  
((Don't be so sure.))  
  
((What does that mean? What do you know that I don't?)) Damon asked suspiciously.  
  
((Adam hacked into the police files.))  
  
((And?)) Damon picked up on the urgency.  
  
((He's seen it. He said, and I quote, 'Interesting stuff'. It's not your everyday murder. They did the autopsy faster than Adam thought they would, too. There's something that's made them suspicious.))  
  
((On the other hand, she was popular, and from I can gather, the Kents are influential round here. If her parents put pressure on the police, they're not gonna sit on there backsides eating donuts on this one, are they?))  
  
((Alright. You have a point there. But I still want to look at the report before I feel at ease about this.))  
  
((Whatever makes you happy.)) Damon shot an amused grin.  
  
((I'd prefer a look at the body. But she's not Sue Carson in a funeral home. I don't want to try and get in the morgue unless I /really/ have to.))  
  
"Salvatore. Care to enlighten the group with your thoughts on Shakespeare's presentation of Henry in this scene?" The teacher broke in, a look of grim satisfaction on his face.  
  
"Uh..." Stefan began.  
  
"It's reminding the audience that he's a normal human being with feelings, which we probably forget after his portrayal as cold military leader in the previous acts..." Damon put in smoothly, delivering an analysis that left the teacher's mouth hanging open. ((Well, he didn't say /which/ Salvatore.)) Damon told his brother, amused.  
  
((Do you want to come with me to look at the report at lunch?)) Stefan asked, grinning at Damon's obvious enjoyment at shocking the teacher.  
  
((Might as well. Nothing else to do. And if it doesn't tell us anything informative, it might at least be entertaining.))  
  
((That wasn't in good taste.)) Stefan chided him.  
  
((Do you really expect anything different from me?)) Damon asked blithely.  
  
((Not really.)) Stefan sighed.  
  
The library was normally empty during lunch, and today was no exception. Stefan, Damon and Mike had been waiting for twenty minutes by the time Adam turned up.  
  
"Sorry I'm late. Mr Wentworth kept me back after class."  
  
"What for?" Mike asked.  
  
"To congratulate me on turning up and to give me back an essay on the human reproductive system."  
  
"What grade?"  
  
"A."  
  
"Did I need to ask?" Mike grinned. "You're a creep, you know that? You do no work, yet you still manage to get A's in everything."  
  
"Except art. Don't forget I flunked."  
  
"You have no idea how much that eases my ego." Mike replied sarcastically.  
  
"Where are the girls?" Adam asked.  
  
"The Gym teacher wanted to see them." Damon responded.  
  
"Something about helping them deal with Tatum's death, explaining why they wouldn't be having gym sessions for the rest of the week, and to help them get over the fact it happened in the shower room. Apparently a lot of the girls don't want to shower in school anymore." Stefan added.  
  
"I would." Damon commented. "Morbid curiosity."  
  
"You're also sick and insensitive." Stefan pointed out.  
  
"That too." Damon said cheerfully. "So are we going to see this report or not? I thought it was pretty simple. Slit throat, doesn't take a forensic pathologist to work out the cause of death."  
  
"Cause of death, yeah. Eventually." Adam said, looking a little ill. He pulled out a plastic folder with some printed sheets inside. "Et voila. Police report, complete with autopsy. Skip the police file - it basically says no suspects as of yet, blah blah, yadda yadda. It's the autopsy you should see. Although I think that's what you wanted in the first place."  
  
Stefan flipped the file open, reading out relevant bits for Damon and Mike's benefit. He had the impression Adam would be happy if he never heard it again. "Okay. Cause of death was indeed the slit throat." He scanned quickly down the page, and frowned. "Not the only injury sustained, though. Stab wound to the abdomen. Blade used was sharp, probably the size of a kitchen knife."  
  
"Where on the abdomen?" Damon asked.  
  
"Around the navel." Stefan replied.  
  
"Solar Plexus." Damon muttered, almost to himself. He leaned back, looking troubled. "Go on." He said, waving his hand at his brother.  
  
Stefan went back to the file. "That's weird." His eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Let me guess." Damon leaned forward. "Little or no blood loss from that particular wound."  
  
"Yeah." Stefan replied, puzzled.  
  
"Inflicted after death, then?" Mike suggested.  
  
"No, it says here it was likely /before/ death. Signs of struggle blah blah. How they find out half this stuff is beyond me."  
  
"I told you it was interesting." Adam said looking up from a book he'd plucked off of the shelf. "Keep on going. It gets more interesting."  
  
"Don't bother." Said Damon. "I'll hazard a guess as to the rest of it."  
  
"You mean you've seen this before?" Mike asked, surprised.  
  
"Maybe." He told the red head, then turned to his brother. "Does it seem as if she's perhaps /aged/ at all?"  
  
"It doesn't say that exactly." Stefan replied uneasily. "Some medical babble about decomposition and the like."  
  
"But it sounds to you as if she'd aged?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Right." Damon sat back in his seat again, brooding on his thoughts.  
  
"What do you know about this then?" Adam asked.  
  
"I might say the same to you." Damon replied. "Most people would have just dismissed all that. You didn't, you said it was interesting, and it's playing on your mind. Something's obviously not right. Care to tell me your thoughts?"  
  
Adam looked at him oddly. "Some things my Mom talks about stick here." He said, tapping his head. "The navel is the location of the third chakra."  
  
"The /what/?" Mike frowned.  
  
"Chakra." Stefan replied. "Energy centres, organs of the spiritual body."  
  
"Carry on, Adam." Damon invited. "What is the third chakra ruler of?"  
  
"Lifeforce and Willpower." Adam replied. "That's all I know. You gonna tell us what's hooked your interest now?"  
  
"I'd be interested to know that." Stefan frowned at his brother.  
  
"Based on what Adam has just told us, I can tell you part of why she was killed."  
  
"Well?" Stefan prompted after a moments silence.  
  
"Lifeforce. Someone tapped straight into the centre for Lifeforce. The idea is that you open up the chakras spiritually for enlightenment and well being - all that New Age mumbo jumbo." Damon explained. "However, in this case someone has decided to get to that centre to drain away the Lifeforce. That's why she appears to have aged - her life energy has been taken."  
  
"Why?" Mike exploded, earning a look of annoyance from several of the more studious students using the library.  
  
Damon shrugged. "A number of reasons. Most likely magic. Certainly for nothing good. If it was they'd have found a different way to gather Lifeforce - tapped into their own or enlisted the help of someone willing. The lack of blood loss from the wound suggests the energy cauterised the wound on the way out. Spiritually speaking, of course."  
  
"What kind of magic?" Mike asked.  
  
"Bad, bad, bad magic." Adam replied, looking sick. "If whoever it is stole Lifeforce and killed Tatum, then it must be real bad. And the only thing I can think of that they'd need Lifeforce for that's really bad is to bring someone back."  
  
"Back?"  
  
"From the other side. From death." Stefan told him.  
  
"Necromancy?" Mike looked disgusted.  
  
"Something like that." Adam nodded.  
  
"If that's what happened - and I think it is, then it won't stop with Tatum." Damon said darkly. "We can expect more killings to take place."  
  
Everyone was silent at that. Finally Mike spoke again. "We have to stop this."  
  
Stefan nodded in agreement. "We will. Somehow." Stefan promised. He looked at Damon. ((You with us?))  
  
Damon stared back, considering, before he replied. ((You need me.))  
  
((That's a yes? Without having to be convinced?)) Stefan was surprised.  
  
((Don't make me say it, or you might find me siding with the other guy.)) Stefan could tell he didn't really mean it, though.  
  
"Guys?" Mike sounded as if he was repeating himself.  
  
"What?" Damon asked, coming back to the real world.  
  
"If this is gonna turn into some weird serial killing, I think you should keep what you know quiet." He replied. "We know you didn't do this, but if someone gets wind that you know of a reason for this to take place, then you'll go up there on the suspect list."  
  
"Good point." Stefan noted.  
  
"If you're not on the list already." Adam said nervously.  
  
"What does that mean?" Damon frowned.  
  
"It means that they'll be checking up on out of town students. See if any lunatics have enrolled themselves into the school."  
  
"And?" Damon asked.  
  
"To put it bluntly, you'll be number one on the list of suspects. You," He said to Stefan, "Have a record from Robert E. Lee that is sketchy, and what there is of it is not what you'd call good. And you," He turned to Damon, "Appear to have no record at all. Now if /I/ were a cop and found that interesting piece of information, alarm bells would be ringing. It /looks/ like a case of someone making up their background. Which is something that someone who has something to hide would do."  
  
The brothers stared at each other. ((I would say that it would be sensible to leave.)) Damon told his brother.  
  
((You would, would you?)) Stefan asked lightly.  
  
((I /would/. Except I know damn well you won't go, and as much as I hate to admit this, I'm not leaving you.))  
  
Stefan was near speechless. */Damon/ is telling me this?*  
  
((Besides which,)) Damon added nonchalantly, ((If we leave it's like admitting we had something to do with it.))  
  
((So what do we do about these records?))  
  
Damon didn't answer. Instead he turned to Adam. "I have something to admit to."  
  
"Oh?" Adam asked politely.  
  
"I never attended Robert E. Lee."  
  
"I guessed as much."  
  
"And they won't find anything about either of us beyond that."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
((How serious is this situation?)) Stefan asked.  
  
((Deadly.)) Damon replied. ((There are a number of things that you can use Lifeforce for. And if they're killing someone to get it, it's not good. Apart from bringing back the dead, there are quite a few nasty little spells you can use it for, and the chances are it will bring about death in a nasty way.))  
  
((We have to tell them.)) Stefan said after a moment. ((We can't not help. We're probably the best hope they have in stopping this - they'll try and do it with or without our help. If we're open with them, it makes life easier for all of us.))  
  
((And if they can't take it, if they want nothing to do with us?))  
  
((I guess we leave.)) He replied reluctantly. ((After dealing with the problem as best we can from the shadows.)) Damon was silent. ((Well?)) Stefan prodded.  
  
Adam and Mike were looking at them strangely. They'd been silent for too long.  
  
"As I was saying." Damon continued where he had left off, his attention on Adam "They won't find any background on us whatsoever. So, if you were feeling bored later on, perhaps you could focus your energy on a creative writing task."  
  
"You want me to fabricate some school records for you?" Adam grinned slyly.  
  
Damon grinned. "You catch on fast. Nothing fancy. Something average and normal."  
  
((/Well?/)) Stefan prodded again, feeling exasperated.  
  
Damon frowned and flashed him an annoyed look. ((I'm getting to it.))  
  
((You're a stubborn asshole. That doesn't tell me anything.))  
  
"Just one little thing, Adam. Before you do anything for us, you might want to know who you're dealing with."  
  
"That might be courteous, yeah."  
  
"You know where our apartment is?" Damon inquired. Adam and Mike both nodded. "Come round tonight at, say, eight o'clock. Bring the girls. I'll tell you then."  
  
"Eight." Mike affirmed, looking intrigued.  
  
"You might want to bring a /very/ stiff drink." Damon added, almost as an afterthought.  
  
~*~  
  
The evening dragged on. The pair of them had been out hunting early, and had arrived back not long before. For once, Damon had gone with Stefan, and although he complained bitterly about it the whole way, he'd settled for the rabbit and fox blood from the woodland animals they'd caught. It had only re-affirmed his preference for human blood, but it served the purpose of preventing needlessly winding Stefan up. Besides, even he had to admit to himself he wasn't up for an argument about morals this evening. It would only hinder them in the long run.  
  
Stefan was visibly nervous - he'd already broken two glasses from exerting too much pressure on them. Damon wasn't about to admit it, but he felt just as uneasy. He hated deliberately revealing himself. And he was about to do it to five people. One of whom was a witch, trouble if things went the wrong way. Jess would be a threat in Damon's opinion if that happened. Humans who knew martial arts and were /good/ at them tended to be bad news in his experience. If this went the wrong way, it could /really/ go wrong for them. The only thing going for them at the moment was that the group already suspected something was being kept from them.  
  
"We've known them for four days and we're telling them this already?" Stefan looked dazed.  
  
"I've known the twins for a week if that makes you feel any better." Damon offered. Stefan glared at him. "I guess not." He amended, retreating to the sitting room to rot his mind watching TV.  
  
"There's nothing on." Stefan said, following him from the kitchen.  
  
"I didn't expect there to be." Damon said dryly.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Seven-thirty." Damon replied, shaking his head. "There's a clock on the video player, a clock in the kitchen, /and/ you're wearing a watch."  
  
"Can I help it if I'm nervous?"  
  
"It's not too late to make up some story to tell them. Witness protection plan, maybe."  
  
"No. We tell the truth." Stefan said firmly.  
  
"Then resign yourself to it, and stop feeling nervous. You're driving me up the wall. We should be relaxed."  
  
"Easier said than done."  
  
"Put it this way. If it blows up in our face and we end up with five hysterical and frightened teenagers on our hands, I don't know if I can control myself. We don't want five bodies, and if this goes badly and I'm uptight, we /will/ have. Now, I know you want them left alive, so for /their/ sakes, let /me/ relax." Damon was relieved to see his brother relax himself after a few moments. He switched the TV on and started the mindless game of channel hopping.  
  
"If you do that much faster, you'll break the remote." Stefan commented after a few minutes. "As it is you should come with a government health warning about epilepsy."  
  
"Oh, very funny." Damon scowled, finally stopping on a channel showing a documentary about lemmings.  
  
"I feel like a lemming at the moment." Stefan commented after a while.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Suicidal. What we're about to do is suicidal."  
  
Damon digested this for a few seconds. "Well, this is obviously a good omen then."  
  
"How'd you figure that?"  
  
"Lemmings don't commit suicide. It's all a myth."  
  
"Oh. You know some really useless shit." Then after a minute more. "TV opens up too many topics of philosophical and mystical debate. We're getting a games system."  
  
"You can get lemmings on those, too." Damon nodded, grinning.  
  
"So we sit in front of a blank screen?"  
  
"Definitely not. We might start pondering the meaning of life then. And that would /never/ do."  
  
Stefan tried to bite back a laugh, but failed miserably. "You're an idiot, you know that?" He said grabbing a cushion and hitting Damon with it. "You should be locked up."  
  
"What games system?" Damon asked, attempting to keep the light mood going.  
  
"Why ask me? I don't know a thing about them. Ask Adam." He sighed. "/If/ he's still talking to us after this." He turned his attention back to the screen, and stared at it with a pensive expression on his face until there was a knock at the door. Damon answered it.  
  
"Hi." Mike said. "Can we come in?"  
  
"Of course." Damon said, grinning to himself as he stepped aside.  
  
"We told the girls about the autopsy report." Adam said as he passed.  
  
"That makes this evening a little less complicated." Damon commented. "Go on through to the sitting room. Sit wherever."  
  
"Neat place." Zia told him. Damon nodded in agreement. Top floor, easy access to the roof. There were only three floors below them, and the bottom floor wasn't occupied. Private enough. The ideal apartment for a vampire. Or it would be if they stayed.  
  
Everyone was assembled in the sitting room. Stefan had vacated his place on the couch and moved to the window seat. Not necessarily to make more room. Damon guessed that Stefan was trying to put a comfortable distance between himself and the humans to make things easier if things started to look bad. Silence descended on the room.  
  
"So, spill." Cookie said eventually. "What's this secret that I /really/ don't want to know?" She was looking directly at Damon, a small smile playing on her lips. Damon didn't smile back. He remained deadly serious. He had the impression that the girl might even be feeling smug she'd been proved right she was going to find out. Whether or not she would be when she found out remained to be seen. He moved carefully over towards Stefan, putting the group between the vampires and the door. A small gesture that they didn't mean harm. Escape was there if the mortals so desired.  
  
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." Jess put in after a few more moments. "You've not known us for even a week - we'll understand if you don't want to trust us with whatever it is."  
  
"No. You have a right to know." Stefan told them. "We didn't want to tell you yet. We didn't know how things would work out. Then this happened, and we don't really have much choice. It's only fair that you know."  
  
"Of course, I would like you to understand /before/ you hear what we have to tell you that we're on your side. I want you to be clear about that."  
  
"Okay. Whatever." Cookie smiled, puzzled. "You're on our side. want to tell us now?"  
  
Damon frowned. "Are you in a bad mood? You're being a little short tempered tonight."  
  
"/You/ try living with Bruce and Lydia. One more week and I'm seriously going to consider killing them. There's no way in hell I can survive a whole /year/."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah. So /please/ get on with it."  
  
Damon exchanged a glance with Stefan and shrugged.  
  
"Where to start." Stefan sighed. "Alright. First of all, Cookie already knows something."  
  
The group turned to look at her. "They're telepathic." She told them. "They talk to each other with their minds."  
  
"Cool." Zia grinned. "How'd you know that?"  
  
"She unknowingly broadcasted her thoughts to me, and I couldn't resist replying." Damon explained.  
  
"That it?" Mike asked surprised.  
  
*You'll wish that 'was it' when you find out the truth.* Damon thought.  
  
"No." Stefan replied.  
  
"So what is it then?"  
  
"Would you believe us if we told you we'd been hanging around for the past five centuries?" Stefan asked.  
  
The group grinned and started chuckling. All except for Cookie who looked at them through narrowed eyes. "Maybe." She said finally. Everyone shut up and looked at her wide eyed. "So what are you, then?"  
  
((Convince her, we convince them all.)) Damon told his brother. Stefan nodded slightly.  
  
"Here goes nothing." Stefan muttered.  
  
"We're Vampires." Damon told the group.  
  
Pandemonium ensued.  
  



	7. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Seven)  
  
"Vampires?" Adam laughed. "Great joke. Maybe you guys are psychos after all." The rest of them laughed with him, finding it highly amusing. Again, except for Cookie.  
  
"Prove it." She demanded.  
  
Stefan looked at Damon, inviting him to do the honours. He shrugged slightly, then faced the group again. He waited a moment to get their attention. Then, when his eye-teeth had lengthened, he pulled back his lips, bared his fangs and hissed. Silence from the guests.  
  
"You can get dentures that do that." Zia suggested uneasily.  
  
"No. These are most definitely real." Damon said, voice low, intense, and /dangerous/. "Feel them if you don't believe me."  
  
"Uh, I think I'll pass." She said. All of the group were pale, and tension was running high. They didn't know what to believe.  
  
"She's right, though. You can get fangs made up - they do it in the movies." Jess commented.  
  
"What else do you want me to do to prove it?"  
  
"Fry in sunlight?" Mike suggested.  
  
"No thank you. Being burned is /not/ very pleasant."  
  
"He has a point." Cookie said. "We've seen you in sunlight quite a bit. Okay you wear sunglasses, but so do a lot of people."  
  
"Talisman." Stefan said simply, holding up his hand and displaying his ring. "Lapis Lazuli..."  
  
"The Night Stone." Cookie nodded, finishing for him. "That means we can't prove or disprove it that way. Frying you would defeat the object."  
  
"Indeed." Damon said, looking lazily around the room. His eyes fell on a baseball bat Stefan had bought over the weekend. "Pass me that, would you?" He asked Adam, who passed it wordlessly to him. He hefted it in his hand a moment. Sturdy. Strong. "You'd agree that it's a solid piece of wood?" He asked Adam, who nodded. "Good." He said, and promptly snapped it in half with one hand. A moment of stunned silence.  
  
"Some people are very strong." Cookie commented. "Although I have to admit that's pretty convincing."  
  
"You want more proof?" Damon asked. "You want me to drain one of you here and now to prove it?" They looked shocked. "Oh, don't worry. You're safe from me. I promise not to harm /you/. Perhaps you'd like me to jump from the top of the building and survive, or run a hundred metres in a second? Or maybe turn into a bat?"  
  
"The last might clinch it." Jess said in a strangled voice.  
  
"Sorry. No can do." He smiled savagely, and looked straight at Cookie. "It's a crow that I can do, and frankly I don't want to do it in front of you. It would make me feel a little too naked."  
  
Cookie stared at him. Pale, but intense. Frightened, but not giving into her fear. Oh yes, she was right. She had to earn his trust by trusting him. And she was doing it, and earning his respect along the way.  
  
"Prove it to me." She said earnestly. "Let me in."  
  
"I can't." He said simply.  
  
"/Why not/?"  
  
"Because what you would see there would defeat the purpose of trusting you with this little secret. Although you have a good idea there. Perhaps Stefan would oblige you with that and let his shields down?" He asked his brother. "You haven't got any dirty little secrets to hi..." He opened his eyes wide with shock, then collapsed to his knees, grasping his head in pain. "Then again," He rasped, "Why bother when it appears it's my head she wants to get into. Cookie blacked out, and he followed seconds later, only vaguely aware that Stefan had rushed to his side in concern.  
  
~*~  
  
Blackness. He was floating in blackness. Lost, confused, and angry. Where most people would have been afraid, Damon Salvatore was angry. He reached out into the dark, and found the intruder.  
  
"I said no." He spat. "I didn't want you in my mind. I didn't want you knowing my past."  
  
"Well I'm here now. You might as well show me." Cookie's voice was shaky.  
  
"No." He growled.  
  
"Fine. I'll find out myself."  
  
"Don't you /dare/." He snapped.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I said that I didn't want you in my mind." He repeated.  
  
"I don't see why. You make this big show to let everyone know you don't give a damn, that you don't care what they think of you, yet when it comes to the crunch...well, you're hiding. Why?"  
  
"I've got nothing to hide from."  
  
"Yourself, maybe."  
  
Damon laughed loudly. "Myself? Oh, no. The one thing I /am/ sure of is myself. I have no need to hide from me."  
  
"Really?" Cookie's tone was mocking. "The few times I've sensed your feelings, you've been confused. Mostly about yourself."  
  
"I /know/ myself." He growled. He could feel the situation slipping away from him. "I know my past, and I do /not/ need to hide from it."  
  
"Maybe /you/ don't need to, but it seems you need to hide it from everyone else. Perhaps you're ashamed of it."  
  
/That/ amused him. He started laughing uncontrollably. "I regret /nothing/ of my past. It's the only /stable/ thing I have to cling on to. I'm not ashamed."  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
"No." He said viciously. "Have you finished psycho-analysing me?"  
  
"No. You see, you might /think/ you're not ashamed, but I hear this little voice. You try and hide it, you try and ignore it, but it's still there. And it worries about Stefan. What he thinks of you. You try and show him that you don't care, but in little ways you change yourself, you try and alienate Stefan a little less. Because you /do/ care. You've changed, you have to have done. Because you say your past is bad, yet you won't let me see it. Why?"  
  
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me." He said dryly.  
  
"Because if you were the bad person from back then, you wouldn't think twice about showing it to me. You'd probably have gotten a perverse amount of pleasure from it, in fact. You say you don't care about your past - that may be. But you still want to protect others from it. You've developed a conscience."  
  
Damon snorted. "A conscience. How quaint. And how did I acquire this...conscience?"  
  
"I think Stefan has a lot to do with that."  
  
"You really think I listen to my brother's constant preaching about morals and honour?" He grinned at Cookie's silence. "Oh yes, didn't you realise? Stefan is /hardly/ a bloodsucking monster. He has all these silly little vows of how he won't touch human blood, how he won't kill humans. All because they're weaker than him, all because they need protecting. That's why I suggested you asked /him/ to open up himself to you. Nothing bad there. Just an abundance of sickening, sanctimonious goodness."  
  
"I think you've just given away more than you intended to. If you didn't care, why tell me you'd have preferred it to be Stefan rather than you?"  
  
"Out." He ordered.  
  
"Maybe you don't care about what everyone else thinks."  
  
"Get. Out. Of. My. Mind."  
  
"But I really believe you care what Stefan thinks."  
  
"Stop it. Shut up." Damon growled.  
  
"No matter how you try to hide it from yourself and others, you care about your brother's opinion." Cookie spoke ruthlessly over him.  
  
"No."  
  
"That's why you want to keep your past from me. You don't give a damn what I think - although I've yet to persuaded of that."  
  
"There's no truth to is." He'd lost his control of the situation entirely now, and was nearing breaking point.  
  
"You're doing this for Stefan."  
  
"Please /stop it/."  
  
"It matters to Stefan to fit in, and if your past will hinder that, then you'll keep it hidden. For Stefan."  
  
Damon was silent for a while. "Why are you doing this?" He asked finally, bitterly. "Why are you invading my mind, cross examining me, forcing me to listen to opinions I'm happier not knowing. Why are you insisting on confusing me?"  
  
"Because I want to know. I /need/ to know what your past is. Something big is going to happen, something bad, and I need you. /We/ need you. We need you and Stefan. How can I trust you if you keep something from me, if you keep /yourself/ from me? How am I supposed to trust and rely on someone who won't trust me?"  
  
Damon was numb. He couldn't muster the strength for anger, he couldn't hate her for this. He was past that. He sighed, and resigned himself to his fate. "I'll show you." He said finally.  
  
"Everything."  
  
A twinge of pain. "Not everything." He could tell she was about to protest. "Nearly everything. Some things hurt. Some things I have to keep private - things that Stefan doesn't know, that I'm not ready to tell him yet, if I ever am. Believe me, anything I keep from you isn't bad. It might even enamour you to me, but I don't want to share." He smiled whimsically. "You'll have to trust me on that."  
  
"I'll wait and see about the trust. But I'll respect your wishes." She said softly.  
  
And he showed her. From the beginning.  
  
The images flashed by. His mothers death, his pain. The blame he placed on Stefan, even though he knew deep down that it wasn't his brother's fault. His animosity towards his brother, the rivalry, the hatred. His wild days at university, his gambling, his father's shame. And of Katherine; the desire to steal her from Stefan, to make him hurt. Then the eventual love, and the loss of that love when Katherine died, a loss he blamed not only Stefan for, but himself. The sword fight, his brother's death and his own. The change, the confusion. The Power. Oh yes, the Power. A revelation to his senses. The blood lust, and the killings to sate that blood lust. And perhaps Cookie was right, because looking back, there /was/ some shame. Not regret, but definitely a little shame. He was ashamed that she was seeing what he'd done. The savage cruelty he'd inflicted during his time with mercenary groups. The twisted enjoyment from bloody wars, terrifying battles.  
  
She was struck dumb. She was appalled, horrified. What he'd done went against her own spiritual beliefs. *Stefan, I'm sorry. This isn't going to work.* Damon thought to himself sadly. But still he showed her everything.  
  
Then came the events of Fell's Church, Katherine's return, Elena's death, an uneasy alliance with his brother. Their return, Elena's rebirth. And the night Stefan almost died, his fear that he would lose his brother, a realisation deep down that he did care. He showed her the year following, how Elena and Stefan drew apart, and how he and Stefan had grown closer. And he realised things about himself. He didn't remember killing of late. He hadn't done it. Of course, there was Tanner, but he had to admit to himself that was out of self defence. He had to admit to himself that he hadn't really been doing much in the way of evil in the past few years. He'd grown bored with it. Matured. Finally he showed her their arrival in Redditch, he showed her how he'd reacted in the clearing, how her dream had affected him. How this was affecting him.  
  
Then he pulled away, drained, miserable. And used. He felt used and even a little abused. Vulnerable, lost and lonely. He hated himself for it, berating himself, pulling up mental barriers.  
  
Yet still she probed, for something. He knew what. A dark part of his heart, a part he kept in shadows, an event that he blocked from memory. She pushed harder. It was the reason that he'd gone to Fell's Church those few years later, and attempted to become what he once was. /That/ had blown up in his face, he noted bitterly. He reinforced the barriers, stubbornly refusing to let her in, refusing to let himself go there. It was still too raw. It would always be too raw. He didn't want to remember. But Cookie still pushed, and she had strength where he was now lacking. And she pushed through.  
  
~*~  
  
Light. She found light. It was the last thing she expected, but it was there. Light and love. But also an incredible amount of pain. The pain that she'd sensed in Jess's room. It came from here. His pain came from loving. *No wonder he's so afraid to care, to admit he cares. There's all this hurt that he's got from loving. His Mom, Katherine, Elena...* And someone else, but whoever it was was just out of reach. *Stefan's in here. He wasn't before, but he's let him in. That's helped his heart a little. But it won't matter if he can't help himself.*  
  
He sat there. She could see him. Small and vulnerable.  
  
*I did this?* She thought with a twinge of guilt.  
  
"Yes. No." He sighed. "It was all here, all inside me. I've done it to myself. You just made me see it."  
  
"Why do you keep this locked away?" She asked in awe.  
  
"You were right before. It hurts. Love hurts." He looked up then, a hint of the Damon she knew tingeing his smile. "Besides, out there is more me. It's my character, the way I am."  
  
"So you ignore love?"  
  
"I'm afraid of this part of me. Love is something tied in with goodness. I'm not good. I never could be. I could never be like Stefan - hell, I don't /want/ to be like Stefan. Ever." He grimaced.  
  
"Love is also tied in with passion - something which you have a lot of. I can't say that what you did wasn't evil. It was, it was pure evil. But you did whatever you did with a passion. You put your being into it. You've changed, now. You've grown. Why, I don't know. Stefan's influence, perhaps, but I think it's more you. You know there reason - that's what you're not showing me. That's up to you.  
  
"You have a passion for life, whatever form it happens to be in. You have strength, you have willpower, you have a determination, and a /drive/ that few people have. You get what you want. No compromises. And all of that is fuelled from the heart. You should unlock the door, even if you don't want to open it."  
  
"And change?" He said bitterly. "I don't /want/ to change."  
  
"You already have. You still are. Except locking your feelings away is taking /away/ any control you might have over that change. You'd still be you - nothing can change that. You'd still be an arrogant, pig headed, selfish bastard if you wanted to be. You'd have the choice."  
  
"If I love, if I care, it all comes crashing down. I have no morals."  
  
"Yes you do. You proved that already. You stood against Katherine, you stood against Klaus. You're prepared to stop whoever the hell it is that killed Tatum. You have morals. You have standards."  
  
"Fine. So I start caring, looking out for the entire human race. Oh, how satisfying. My reward will surely be in heaven." He said sarcastically. "I can't change my views. No matter what you say, I still see the majority of humans as weak, pathetic creatures, who are just /begging/ to be preyed upon."  
  
"You're not impressing me, and that's not what I meant."  
  
"And what exactly did you mean?" He sneered.  
  
"Aren't you tired of relying on just yourself? Don't you want to put your trust in someone? Don't bother denying it, because I know one person straight away you would want to. If you learn to love, you can learn to trust, and being able to put your trust in just one person makes life bearable. You trust that person, you love that person, you can lean on that person. You're never alone. You open your heart to Stefan, you bridge the last bit of the gap between you, and you won't be alone again. Do yourself a favour. Whatever happens after now, if you leave tomorrow, you open up to Stefan. Let him know your feelings, trust him. You don't have to love or trust anyone else ever. You can go on hating the human race, you can go on killing them. But you'll at least have Stefan to turn to."  
  
Damon laughed. "Wonderful speech. But you see, Stefan doesn't share my views. They disgust him. If I went back to my old ways, he'd be off like a shot. And that might not be a bad idea. But I'll tell you, he would /not/ appreciate me killing off hapless mortals, and I for one couldn't stand him complaining about it and trying to make me change my ways for the rest of eternity."  
  
"You are so dumb."  
  
"So you've been pointing out to me."  
  
"Why the hell do you /think/ he keeps nagging at you?"  
  
"To make my life a misery and to convert yet another to the path of sickening goodness."  
  
"You dumb-ass!" Cookie exploded. "The reason Stefan nags on at you is because he actually cares. Unlike /some/ people, he's actually admitted to himself he cares about you. He's admitted it to you, too."  
  
"No he hasn't."  
  
"Actions speak louder than words." She retorted. "Just sticking by you proves he cares."  
  
"He made a promise to Elena." He said softly.  
  
"And no-one makes a promise like that unless a part of them /wants/ to. He wouldn't make a promise he couldn't keep. He /knew/ that he was prepared to make the effort. And he forgave you. That takes a lot - especially after a lot of the stuff you've done."  
  
The look of defiance left Damon's face, and he slumped again, staring at the ground. "Fine. I admit I care. I care about my brother. So what now. I put my trust in him. I open my soul to him. I let myself get close." He stood up and leaned towards Cookie, his face inches from hers. "So what happens when /he/ leaves. What happens when I can't protect him, when he dies. What good would Stefan's love do me then? All that love would turn to pain. The more I love, the more it damn well hurts." He turned his face away sharply, his breath was ragged, voice hoarse. "You see, a part of me already knows what you're telling me has some truth. But the voice of experience knows what happens when you open your heart, when you rely on others."  
  
Cookie stared at him warily. She was treading on dangerous ground here. "At least you would have known love." She said. "What's the saying? One year of love is better than a lifetime alone?" What happened next was something totally unexpected. She flinched back from the Power that erupted from him. He screamed in anguish, and hung his head.  
  
"I've known love." He said bitterly, finally looking up again. "And I know the pain it caused. If I had the choice, I'd do without that love just to make the pain go away." He swallowed heavily before continuing. "Would you like to see? Do you want to see what hurts so much?" He stepped back a little. "You think it was Stefan that changed me? Perhaps a little. But it happened before then."  
  
"How?" Cookie asked. She wasn't sure she should ask. She wasn't sure he should be going there himself.  
  
"Rebecca." He said mournfully. And the tears spilled over as he forced her out of his mind.  
  
~*~  
  
Stefan felt an intense amount of relief as Damon whispered 'Rebecca' and roused himself from oblivion, curling up into a ball where he'd collapsed on the floor. His breathing was eratic, and his face damp from tears, but at least he was conscious. Cookie pulled herself up into a sitting position, and he glared at her, furious.  
  
"What the hell did you do to him?" He demanded.  
  
"I...I had to know." Cookie said thickly.  
  
"You had no right." Stefan snapped. He was close to breaking point. The pair of them had been out cold for an hour. It had taken fifteen minutes before everyone else was calm again, and Stefan had had a hard time convincing everyone they were safe. He had to give them credit. They were wary - rightly so. But they were also giving him the benefit of the doubt. He'd used the remaining time that Damon was unconscious to explain to them about vampires. They'd taken it well. They even half trusted him now, especially after Jess had pointed out the trust he was putting in them with this secret. He was grateful to her for that.  
  
"I'm sorry." Cookie said finally. She lifted her head to meet his gaze.  
  
"I only hope it was worth it." He snarled.  
  
"I don't know." She shrugged sadly. "I know you can be trusted now. I should have gone with my gut instinct. All this did was prove me right. I'm so sorry." She looked downright miserable, and sick with herself.  
  
Stefan softened a little and looked down at his brother. "I'll forgive you if he pulls out of this."  
  
She nodded. "We'll leave you to it, then." She rose unsteadily to her feet, Mike and Zia moving to help her. The group left silently, and the door clicked shut behind them. Stefan began to shudder uncontrollably. *My fault. I should never have insisted.* He thought bitterly.  
  
"Uh, I thought you might need someone to stay with you." The voice was nervous. Stefan's head whipped up in surprise. He'd not been aware that anyone had stayed behind. Jess stood there awkwardly, a look of concern on her face.  
  
He mustered a smile. "There's not much you can do. /I/ don't know what to do. But thanks anyway."  
  
She knelt down next to him. "That's not what I meant. I thought you might want some company." She smiled.  
  
He nodded, touched. "Thanks." He considered asking her to leave, but his heart wouldn't let him. It was clinging onto the warmth she was offering. The fact that she was offering this friendship despite knowing what he was made it all the more special. "I'm going to get Damon into his bed. I'll be out soon. You can make yourself a drink or whatever while you wait, if you want." He picked his brother up gently, and moved through into his room.  
  
It was dark in Damon's room. Stefan sat on the desk chair which he'd pulled closer to the bed. It was nearly three in the morning. Mike had picked Jess up just before midnight. They'd spent the evening watching TV and playing cards, Stefan keeping his senses fixed on Damon for any change. She'd been pleasant company, even if she wasn't /entirely/ relaxed. But that hadn't hurt. It had taken guts to stay with him, and even more so to stay with him /alone/. It showed trust, and that was a great tonic to Stefan's heavy heart.  
  
Damon stirred. "You been here long?" He muttered, visibly surprised that Stefan was there.  
  
"Since midnight." He replied. Damon fumbled for the alarm clock by the bed. "A few hours, then."  
  
"I would have been in sooner, except Jess stayed to keep me company."  
  
"That's unexpected."  
  
Stefan nodded. "You want to talk about it?"  
  
Damon shook his head. "Not at the moment." He replied. Stefan was surprised. It was far more than the outright 'no' he's been expecting. Damon continued. "What I actually need is to go out and hunt. I feel so shitty that I'd even settle for rat blood right now." He moved to get up, only to have Stefan push him back down.  
  
"You're not going anywhere." He said firmly. Damon began to protest. "If you need blood, I can spare a little." He said, offering his wrist. Damon looked at him oddly. He didn't blame him. He was a little surprised at this himself.  
  
"You're sure?" Damon asked, hesitating before biting gently at Stefan's nod. Stefan wasn't sure what Cookie had done, but whatever it was had left Damon famished. He felt moved not to remove the source of nourishment away from Damon, but to let him finish himself. Finally, Damon pushed his wrist away, and curled back up under his blanket. Stefan stayed silent. He could sense that barriers between them were open, but he was unsure how to proceed, afraid that if he spoke, he would say the wrong thing, and Damon would retreat behind his cold mask once again. So silence was the best option. It paid off after a while.  
  
"Can I tell you something?" Damon asked. His voice was desolate, lost.  
  
Stefan frowned, concerned. "I told you I was here if you needed to talk." He replied carefully.  
  
"I want to tell you about Rebecca." He said sadly. And Stefan listened.  
  
~*~  
  
"I met Rebecca in the early 1980s in England. For some reason I thought that it would be a good idea to wreak my own personal havoc on a student population, so I enrolled myself into London University. Rebecca had come to university from Suffolk with a group of friends. I ran into her my first day there, a witness to one of her pranks. She was fast like that, never wasted time waiting to do things. She was wild, a nature unto herself. Her hair was a chestnut brown that had a habit of tangling itself up - wild like herself. For that reason she kept it short, to her chin. An attempt to look a little more respectable, she said. It didn't work. She looked like a pixie, acted like an imp. Her mouth was a little too big for her face, but it didn't matter. It made her already pretty face radiant when she smiled. It lit the room.  
  
"It was her eyes I noticed first. I was trying to find my room, and she ran into me, tiny feet bare, making an escape from the scene of the 'crime'. She managed to squeak out an apology through her laughter, and looked up at me, grin plastered over her face, eyes wide with excitement. She had amazing eyes. A strange grey-blue, the colour of storm clouds waiting to unleash the tempest. Her soul shone through those eyes, and it captured mine. She ran off quickly, and I headed towards the commotion.  
  
"Someone had been hard at work during the night and early morning moving shoes from bedrooms into the dining room. The university owned house had enough rooms for twenty people, so the shoe feat wasn't entirely impossible. Having only just arrived that morning, I had my boots attached to my feet, a small fact that led to the finger being pointed at me. It took a while to get over to them that it wasn't me, that I'd only just moved out of my hotel room this morning, and that there was no way I could have done it. The whole thing amused me more than anything. I wouldn't have been so stupid to make my shoes the only ones not missing if it /had/ been me, and so I went in search of the person that I was sure was the real culprit. The barefooted sprite Rebecca.  
  
"I had intended to teach her a little 'lesson' for dropping me in it, but when I finally caught up with her lounging on a blanket on the front lawns, I lost heart. There was something about her. It didn't matter what she did, you couldn't help forgiving her. She made you laugh, made you forget your troubles. Everyone forgave her for her pranks, and looking back on them, they always found them funny. Including the shoe incident when she finally admitted to it. When I told her what had happened, her eyes widened apologetically, and after making me promise not to rat on her, she offered to by me a drink for my troubles. I accepted, deciding that I might as well get to know people, and she was as good as any. Besides which I was already growing to like her.  
  
"We stayed in a nearby pub all afternoon, and into the evening. We talked mainly, about music, books, the courses we were doing. And as the alcohol loosened her up, we talked more about personal things. That was more her than me, I think she needed to talk to someone. I happened to be there.  
  
"She had no illusions about life; she'd lost her brother and sister in a drowning accident a few years before, her mother had turned to the bottle to deal with her pains, and her father had drawn into himself, attempted to ignore the hurt. Rebecca had gone through the pain, and come out of it. 'Live life to the fullest,' she said, 'Today might be your last day, why waste it with sadness and woe'. She always lived by that. Never let a moment go to waste, never let a chance for a prank go by.  
  
"As it turned out we were on the same history course; Britain and Europe, the Dark Ages to the Middle Ages. I'd chosen it because it was history that was genuine history to me. Studying things I've lived through is always a little tedious. She'd chosen it because she had a passion for the subject. She wanted to be a field archaeologist. She would have fitted in perfectly; a little weird with plenty of passion.  
  
"As the months wore on we did a lot together, became good friends. I fell in a little with her group, messed around with them. I was always the stranger though. I didn't want to get /too/ close. I wasn't really bothered about friendship with them. Just with Rebecca. We studied together, pulled pranks together, made lectures a riot, went out at night together. We were best friends, the Trouble Twins. I don't know what it was that kept us together like that, I guess our souls were just compatible. Soul Mates, perhaps.  
  
"I told her what I was towards the end of our first year. She didn't believe me at first, and when she did, she wasn't afraid. Far from it. She thought my abilities 'opened up some interesting avenues of investigation'. That turned out to mean the pranks in the second year became wilder. Her plans incorporated my abilities, and we ended up baffling even the most intelligent students. They couldn't work out how we'd done half the stuff we did. It wasn't humanly possible, they'd said. Which it wasn't. They never worked out how all the girls' bras ended up hung neatly and artistically by the straps from a hundred foot horse- chestnut. That had involved me climbing to the top of the tree with a back pack filled with underwear, balancing on fragile limbs to drape the items on the end twigs. I spent half an hour up there at four in the morning and I almost fell out at least five times, which goes to show just /how/ inhumanly possible it was. I drew the line at the clothing pegs clipping the straps to the branches. By the time I'd finished I felt like pegging /her/ at the top of that damned tree.  
  
"She had a problem with relationships the whole time I knew her. I lost count of the break ups she had with various guys, and the resulting nights getting drunk in her room to get over it. I told her she was better off leaving the personal parts out of the picture, that one night stands were the best way to do it. Satisfaction with no strings attached. She never took that advice, and she knew exactly why I had the reputation of having the most romantic flings on campus. If the girls wanted a night of fun, it was to me they came. She pointed out to me that she hadn't got a weird diet to stick to whenever I mentioned short flings were easiest. Easy meal ticket, I told her. One night stands weren't for her, she said. She needed someone to be intimate with in that way. She needed to be able to share her feelings with her sexual partners. I couldn't give her that, and we both knew it. It wouldn't be right, our friendship meant to much to destroy it with a love affair that wouldn't last.  
  
"We had an invite to a Christmas party during our third year, along with a good number of our house. Olly, one of Rebecca's old friends who'd come up with her to uni lived with his parents out of term time, and they owned a huge house in a village in the middle of the Suffolk countryside. They normally held a huge family party, but that year they were spending christmas in Paris, and so the house was left for us 'young' people to use for our own wild party. It was held a few days before Christmas so those who wanted to spend the actual day with their families could do.  
  
"I travelled up there with Rebecca, her current boyfriend, Jas, and three other friends from our history course. Ryan, one of the guys, drove, while his girlfriend sat in the passenger seat. That left me, Jas and Carl sat in the back. Rebecca took it upon herself to sprawl across our laps, a blanket over her to hide under if the police looked to closely. Ryan was paranoid about losing his license - he wasn't the world's best driver, and had been pulled on numerous occasions for something illegal about his car.  
  
"The party was one of those one in a million smashes that linger in your mind for years. Olly's parties were always something to talk about back at uni, and on his own turf he'd surpassed even our wildest expectations. Olly always said that a party was truly a success when the police came banging on the door. Which they did at three in the morning, declaring that they'd had several complaints from the villagers that it was far to noisy. We were told to wind the party down, and we did. Olly's place was big enough for everyone to crash, and that was the original plan. Then Ryan told us that he had to be back for a job interview at eleven that morning. He was our only ride home, and so we had to go with him.  
  
"We were all still out of it when we got up to leave at nine, but Ryan was especially drunk. Jas had taken the keys from him and said he'd drive himself, and we all thought that was best. Jas was pretty sober, and more together than the rest of us, bar me, and I wasn't about to offer to drive. I didn't want the responsibility of driving five vulnerable and very mortal humans back to London. Rebecca sat in the front this time, keeping Jas company.  
  
"The roads were icy that morning, and driving was difficult. Jas handled it well, avoiding the bad spots that could have been potential accidents. What happened wasn't his fault. It wasn't really anyone's fault, except perhaps nature's.  
  
"We were involved in a pile up on the M1 heading towards London. A lorry driver had slammed his breaks on too quickly, and skidded. He lost control of the vehicle in his panic. Seven cars in all were near destroyed in the accident, ours included.  
  
"Ryan's girlfriend had been in the position Rebecca had on the way to the party, and she'd been flung against the front seats. She escaped with a broken arm and mild concussion. Carl had broken his leg somehow, and Ryan had come through with only bruises and a nosebleed. I managed to get out of the car easily, not even suffering a scratch. In the front, Jas was trapped, but, apart from a severe case of shock, was unharmed. He didn't even question how I'd managed to free him from the wreckage.  
  
"Rebecca was a different story. There was no way I could free her. She'd been impaled in the stomach by a broken shard of metal from one of the other cars smashing through the windscreen. She lost consciousness with me reaching across to her, holding her hand tightly, telling her, /pleading/ with her to hang on.  
  
"She woke up again once in the ambulance to the hospital. She told me she loved me, and that I wasn't to let this get to me. That I still had to go on living my life to the fullest. I promised her that I would, but I still told her to hang on, told her that I didn't want to live without her, that I couldn't go on without my soul mate. I almost considered changing her there, making her into a vampire. Almost. But I didn't. I loved her too much. If she'd wanted it, I would have, but I knew she didn't. I knew that it wasn't for her, and I couldn't do it. Even though she'd have forgiven me, I couldn't do it. I knew she'd rather die and so I let her.  
  
"Rebecca died a week later in Intensive Care. She hadn't woken up since the ambulance. It was her parents' decision as the next of kin to turn the machines off. I knew she'd gone, that the machines were just keeping her body alive, I'd known after she faded again in the ambulance.  
  
"And so I lost all that mattered to me. I lost a part of my own soul. I snapped after that, went mad, lost myself. I locked it all away inside, and refused to let it out. I went part way back to being my old self, the blood, the hunt, and even the killing. Hate is always so much easier than love, so much less painful.  
  
"But once it's touched you, there's no way of escaping that pain. You have to live with it. You have to face it at some point. My running from it stops here. It stops now."  
  
  



	8. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Eight)  
  
"That one next, I think." Bruce said, nodding his head towards a freshman with over-done black make-up dressed in an over-sized black sweater. The students of Redditch High were heading home after a subdued day of schooling. "She looks like she's begging for a dance with Death." He continued.  
  
Lydia smiled coldly. "Let's follow her, shall we? Wait until she arrives at a secluded spot then..." She giggled and mimed a discreet stabbing motion with her fist.  
  
"We'd better go now. She'll be out of sight before long. Then we'd have to wait until tomorrow to find her again. The pair linked arms and set off after the girl, keeping a safe distance.  
  
~*~  
  
Bernadette Garrett trudged home, trailing her book bag dejectedly behind her, unaware of being followed. School had been bad today. Particularly bad. She hated it on a good day, hated the teachers, hated the pupils, hated the pointless monotony of the lessons. She didn't excel at all in academic subjects, and her art and poetry was overly dark and morbid. Purposfully so, most said. She knew they were right. It was an attempt to give herself an image, draw attention to herself, and perhaps to make people a little frightened of her.  
  
Today had been worse than most days because of Tatum Kent. Bernadette was wishing she hadn't died along with the rest of the school, only her opinion differed greatly. Tatum had been a useless airhead in her opinion, and the world was better off without her. The only problem with her death was that the rest of the school, even the town, were walking around mourning her passing, crying their eyes out over someone they barely knew. Some of them out of guilt, probably. They felt guilty for saying nasty things about her. Bernadette knew a few of them, and their hypocrisy was sickening. Everything was always about Tatum Kent, about what a beautiful, popular girl she was, about how she was a wonderful student, cheerleader, what wonderful school activities she planned. And now she was dead, it was /worse/. Whatever corner you turned, people were talking about Tatum. It made Bernadette boil with anger. She didn't think she could face school the following day if it was going to be the same.  
  
She turned off of the main road and up the dirt track that led to the bridge across the small river. Her parents' place was barely half a mile further. She never made it. Two pairs of strong hands grabbed her from behind, forcing her to the ground. A large ball of cloth was stuffed into her mouth and a sickly sweet fragrance wafted up her nose. It smelled like decay. It smelled like death.  
  
She struggled violently before a pressure weighted her shoulders down. Someone was sitting on her legs, too. She looked up into the a pair of grey eyes that burned with a psychotic light, made even more terrifying by the demonic leer on the boy's face. The girl on her legs looked equally as frightening, and she struggled even more, but to no avail.  
  
The girl caught Bernadette's gaze and held it. They began to hum, and it vibrated through Bernadette's skull, building in pressure, until finally her ears popped, and it felt like she was floating. It reminded her of the time her mom had taken her to a meditation group to fix her 'attitude', the same sense of peace and wholeness. Only that time she hadn't be so very afraid.  
  
The panic rose a notch higher as the girl produced a kitchen knife from her bag and held it above her belly, only she no longer had control over her body and was unable to struggle any more. She heard herself whimper behind her gag as a disjointed thought flitted through her mind. They'd killed Tatum. They were going to kill her, too.  
  
The girl rested the point of the blade on Bernadette's navel. Such a normal, everyday object, but so dangerous, so /evil/. And suddenly it was plunged inside of her. If Bernadette had been able to scream it would have been heard for miles around. It wasn't so much pain, surprisingly, but more the shock that she'd actually been stabbed.  
  
As she thought it was over, that they were going to kill her, they closed their eyes, their faces becoming blank. A tingling sensation began to grow inside of her. It didn't feel entirely physical, more like part of /herself/ was being manipulated.  
  
The girls withdrew the knife from Bernadette slowly and carefully, her hand steady. Bernadette was horrified to see a yellow mist flow from the wound, following the tip of the blade. It rose above her, floating over her, twisting around it's own tendrils. As the mist left her, so did her strength. She began to lose her grip on consciousness until eventually, and gratefully, she blacked out into a very deep sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
Bruce and Lydia slowly opened their eyes and stared in hungry anticipation at the yellow Lifeforce they had drawn from the girl's body.  
  
/Brace yourselves/. The voice inside told them. /Be ready for this/. The yellow mist between them began to writhe faster. The tendrils moved down, towards the body, seeking a place to live and give life.  
  
"Now." Bruce whispered, Lydia wet her lips a little and handed the knife carefully to her brother. He gripped the handle firmly, placing the blade to the girl's throat, then cutting swiftly and deeply.  
  
As the girl's heart ceased beating, the tendrils snapped back away from the body and began reaching for the only other sources of life nearby. The two steeled themselves as the first icy touches caressed their cheeks. Icy, the voice had told them, because only freely given Lifeforce was warm. The yellow mist parted in the middle, flowing down Bruce and Lydia's bodies, making them want to shiver. It stopped moving down when it reached the navel, and began flowing /in/ instead. Lydia bit back a scream as icy daggers forced their way in. And then it was over.  
  
Bruce and Lydia got up shakily, collecting their belongings and carefully making sure to remove all trace of their ever having been there. They picked up the body between them, and moved to the bridge.  
  
/A weak Lifeforce/. The voice said, almost to itself, /But still, a weak one is better than none at all/.  
  
They gave each other a satisfied look as they hauled the body over the centre of the wooden railings, and watched it fall in the river below. It stuck in debris for a few moments, then the current picked it up and washed it down- stream.  
  
~*~  
  
The sun had been down for an hour by the time everyone had assembled in Jess and Mike's sitting room. Mike sat cross-legged on the couch plucking the strings of his guitar and humming softly. A breeze blew in gently through the open window.  
  
"They definitely weren't in school today." Zia said. "Stefan wasn't in chemistry, so I asked around. Neither of them have been in today."  
  
"I tried calling their place at lunch. If anyone was in, they weren't answering." Adam supplied, chewing his bottom lip.  
  
"Maybe they've left town." Cookie suggested, dejected.  
  
"And would you blame them if they had?" Adam glared at her. "After what you pulled last night, I really wouldn't blame them if they skipped the country."  
  
"Okay, okay. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry for this? I'm worried about them just as much as you are. Hell, I'm more worried about Damon. I was in his head. I was in his /soul/, dammit. How do you think I'll feel if something awful happens to him?" Tears rolled down her cheeks.  
  
"Hey, hey. It's okay. What's done is done." Jess said, pulling her friend into a hug. "Besides, I don't think they've left town. Stefan wouldn't. He said last night he wanted to help, and he wouldn't leave before that. They're still here, probably holed up at their place for a day or two."  
  
"We're still here." A voice spoke softly. The group turned to the window, startled. Stefan boosted himself in and landed in a crouch on the floor. He pulled his leather jacket off and draped it over the arm of the couch. Damon followed after. The pair were dressed entirely in black. Any sign of the previous night's events had gone from Damon's face. If anything, it was harder. He looked at Cookie, his lip turning up a little at the corner.  
  
"You owe me." He said simply. "And I collect on my debts."  
  
"Ignore him." Stefan said as Cookie's eyes widened. "That's just his way of saying he forgives you."  
  
"Yes. But she still owes me for what she did."  
  
"In what way?" Cookie asked, a little fearfully.  
  
"We'll see." Damon replied, his mouth forming into a calculating grin. "I'm sure I'll think of something."  
  
"Where've you been all day?" Jess asked, butting in. "We've been worried."  
  
"I'm touched." Damon replied, still grinning at Cookie. "We've been talking all day."  
  
"About time." Cookie muttered under her breath. If Damon heard it, he ignored it. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.  
  
"So, you're okay?" Mike asked finally.  
  
"I've been better." Damon replied dryly, taking his gaze from Cookie. "But I've also been far worse. Thank you for asking, anyway."  
  
"How about you guys? After last night..." Stefan trailed off and shrugged.  
  
"I think we're doing okay." Mike told them "It'll take getting used to, but we're okay. Apart from Cookie's guilt trips, that is. Jess doesn't seem bothered at all."  
  
"Yeah. Thanks for last night." Stefan smiled at her.  
  
"S'okay." She shrugged self consciously, and grinned a little.  
  
Stefan looked at the floor a second, then addressed the group. "Last night didn't /exactly/ go to plan. I had hoped to discuss Tatum Kent's murder. Then things got out of hand, and we didn't get chance."  
  
"So we discuss it now." Mike said, putting down his guitar. "If anyone has any ideas, now would be a good time to reveal them." Everyone stayed silent. "Fine. So how's about the guys with triple figures in their age start talking?"  
  
Damon looked at Stefan and shrugged. He turned to face the girls. "Adam told you about our discussion in the library, right?" They nodded. "Good. Anything you don't understand?"  
  
"Other than why anyone in Redditch would /want/ to do this, we have no questions."  
  
"So far, so good." Damon nodded to himself. "Okay. Stefan and I discussed this among other things earlier today. We're new here, we don't know anyone except you, so we have no clue as to who could be doing this."  
  
"Apart from Lydia." Stefan muttered.  
  
"But we agreed not."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Stefan waved his brother on.  
  
"As much as I'd love it to be my creepy cousins so they could get slammed away for life, all logic tells me otherwise." Adam grinned wryly. "They don't have the guts to pull it off."  
  
"That's what /I/ said." Zia said.  
  
"Don't write them off altogether, though." Cookie said darkly. "They've been /nice/ since last night. They're definitely up to something."  
  
Damon rolled his eyes. "Fine. Not having met them, I don't suppose I'm in any position to comment. So, any other ideas?"  
  
"Some guy kidnapped Tatum's kid brother a few years back." Jess informed them. "They had a grudge against Mr Kent. Something to do with a business take-over. I think the guy has a few enemies, so maybe it's just some revenge killing. Or am I being overly hopeful?"  
  
"Overly hopeful." Cookie replied sadly. "This is something big, and it won't stop with Tatum. And it's no-one in town. Strangers, people who don't belong."  
  
"So that leaves myself, Damon, Bruce, Lydia who are new to town. Anyone else?" Stefan asked.  
  
"There's a family moved in on Maple Avenue." Mike supplied. "But unless their second name is Bundy, I doubt it's them."  
  
"Kids?" Adam asked.  
  
"Two, and it wasn't them. One is seven, the other ten. They're in Jamie and Aaron's classes in school."  
  
"Anyone new in town then that has reason to be at school, then?" Stefan amended.  
  
"The janitor has a new guy working for him." Zia said. "I've seen him when I stay late for dance. He's from out of town for sure."  
  
"I've heard rumours about him. Ex-drug addict, stuff like that." Adam frowned. "Although you shouldn't listen to rumours."  
  
"So we have a new janitor." Damon summed up. "A ten year old and a seven year old. Wonderful."  
  
"And Bruce and Lydia." Stefan muttered.  
  
"Shut up about Bruce and Lydia."  
  
"They showed up just before Tatum was killed." Jess pointed out.  
  
"Oh, not you, too." Damon shook his head despairingly. "I'm getting tired of this. The next person to mention those two gets thrown out of the window. And that is /not/ an idle threat, I genuinely mean it." He snapped.  
  
"You should meet them." Adam said.  
  
"I'd rather not. From what I've heard, I'm better off without that little joy of life."  
  
"Just out of interest, what would the janitor be needing Lifeforce for?" Zia asked.  
  
"Maybe he was a part of some religious cult or other?" Mike suggested.  
  
Damon cradled his head in his hands. "We're getting nowhere with this."  
  
"What's your suggestion, then?" Mike asked.  
  
"It's a big town." Damon said, looking up. "The truth is, you're not going to know /everyone/ who moves in and out. It doesn't even need to be someone who /lives/ here. It could be someone staying for a few days."  
  
"Bru..." Cookie shut her mouth quickly as Damon shot her an evil look.  
  
"How about we split up and look then?" Jess suggested.  
  
"Best idea so far." Damon sighed.  
  
"Okay then. Tomorrow we look round school for new faces, then look round town after school for suspicious looking people." Jess decided.  
  
"Fine. Two groups." Stefan said. "Me and the twins, Damon and the rest."  
  
"Uh uh." Jess shook her head. "Me, you and Adam, Damon and the rest."  
  
"Why?" Stefan frowned.  
  
"It's better if Mike and I are split. Twin thing." She explained. "If there's any trouble, we'll know about it whatever. There might be a hundred and one reasons why you and Damon can't get in touch, but there's no way to stop Mike or myself knowing about the other. So we'll go on opposite teams."  
  
"Fair enough." Damon shrugged. He walked to the window and boosted himself out. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
"You don't have to leave, you know." Jess said, a little hurt.  
  
"I know." Stefan told her, picking up his jacket. "It's not that I don't want to stay. Damon's starting to get pissed off, and you /don't/ want to see him when he blows."  
  
"No way." Cookie agreed with him.  
  
"So don't take personally, okay." He told Jess, smiling.  
  
"Alright. 'Night. See you at school, then." She replied. Stefan nodded, and followed Damon out of the window.  
  
  



	9. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Nine)  
  
*Why am I even here?* Damon asked himself. He slouched against his locker, sulking. *I'd be far more useful searching /out/ of school. But, no, little brother insists on things being as normal as possible. We've been here a week and a half out of five hundred years, now /this/ is what I'd call /ab/normal.* He sighed, and hummed quietly along to the music blasting into his ears from the headphones.  
  
He jumped, startled out of his thoughts as a hand waved in front of his face. Zia jumped back herself, startled at his reaction.  
  
"Boy, you're uptight." She told him.  
  
"Uh, sorry. Miles away." He replied  
  
"What're you listening to?"  
  
Damon looked blank, then shook his head dazedly when she pointed to his Walkman. "Oh. All About Eve." He replied. She looked confused, so he elaborated a little. "A chirpy Goth band from the eighties."  
  
"You're into that weird Goth shit?"  
  
"Some of it. It suits my dark moods and temperament." He said, hitting stop on the stereo clipped to his belt. A few teachers had /tried/ to comment, but had thought the better of it when they saw the look he gave them.  
  
"Fine. Weirdo." She grinned. "First lesson has been cancelled. Principal Morgan wants to see the whole school, so she called an assembly. Probably something to do with Tatum."  
  
"They left that a bit late." Damon frowned.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You'd have thought she'd do it Tuesday, or yesterday at the latest."  
  
"Maybe." Zia shrugged.  
  
"I smell more trouble. Looks like Cookie might be right." A smile crept across his face. He liked a challenge. Zia stopped and looked at him strangely before shaking her head and following him again.  
  
~*~  
  
It hadn't really occurred to Stefan just how big Redditch High was until the entire student population was gathered in the auditorium. Fells Church had been a relatively small town; everyone pretty much knew everyone else. It wouldn't have surprised Stefan if there were a good amount of students here who didn't even know the names of a good deal of the others. *Well, you wanted anonymity.* He told himself. He spotted a familiar blue head towards the back, and wove his way through students to get to it.  
  
"What's going on?" He asked Cookie. He glared at the boy sitting next to her, moving into the seat he quickly vacated.  
  
"You're picking up bad habits from us." She grinned.  
  
"Nope. Some inborn snobbery from being an aristocrat." He replied. "So what's this about?" He asked again.  
  
Cookie shrugged. "Principal Morgan called an emergency assembly."  
  
"/Emergency/ assembly? That doesn't sound good."  
  
"No. It doesn't."  
  
"I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
"You know what? I do too." Cookie muttered.  
  
"That doesn't make me feel any better." Stefan sighed and chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, his attention turning to the front of the hall.  
  
Principal Morgan was standing in front of a microphone that had been set up in the middle of the stage, a sombre expression on her face. She coughed to clear her throat before speaking.  
  
"I wish I could say good morning to you all, but I'm afraid there is nothing good about it. As you are all aware, we suffered a tragic loss on Monday with the death of Tatum Kent. It has hit us hard, some more than others, and she will be sorely missed. To her friends, and anyone else who feels they need help through this, we have councillors willing to listen to you.  
  
"It pains me greatly to say what I have to say next, especially considering that we are still in shock from Monday..."  
  
"I feel sick." Cookie mumbled quietly, sinking down low in her seat, eyes shut tight. "I don't want to hear this." Stefan gave her a sympathetic glance, and hesitantly took her hand to comfort her. She gripped his hand tightly. The principal was still speaking.  
  
"Early this morning Bernadette Garrett's body was discovered in the river, a few miles from her home." She paused as gasps and murmurs of shock filled the large room.  
  
"Oh, Lord and Lady." Cookie moaned, pressure increasing on Stefan's hand. "Why did you give me this damnable 'gift'? Why do I have to know these things? Why did I have to be right? /Why/?" She whispered. It was only his sensitive hearing that let him catch the last of what she said. His heart went out to her. Relative silence fell over the room again as Principal Morgan started to speak again. Stefan could feel how uncomfortable she was having to do this. *No one should have to do this.* Stefan thought bitterly.  
  
"Early signs indicate that it was the same person who killed Tatum Kent, and as of today, the police are searching for a possible serial killer. From the wounds dealt, the police are looking into possible ritual or cult killings. If you know anything, and I do mean /anything/ you /must/ tell the police. This is a deadly serious situation, and it is important that we try to prevent losing any more of you.  
  
"On that note, the police are enforcing safety restrictions on all young people.  
  
"One; A nine pm curfew is being placed on the town. Not one of you is allowed out after then, unless in the company of your parents.  
  
"Two; No one is to be allowed out on their own, and preferably not even in pairs. Police are not ruling out that the killer has an accomplice. If you /must/ leave your house, make sure you are in a group of people you know and trust. This applies to during the day.  
  
"Three; School /will/ be kept open. We have no idea how long this will last, and your education cannot suffer. Again, I must stress the point of travelling in groups, and I would prefer it if no one walked to and from school until this matter is resolved. If you don't have your own car, get your parents to drive you to school, your friends' parents, your older brothers or sisters. Take the school bus, get a taxi. But /do not/ go alone.  
  
"Please remember, these rules are not here to punish you. They are being enforced to try and save lives. Follow them for your own good.  
  
"One last important thing. So far, the deaths have been girls. I want all of you girls to be extra careful for that reason. Stick with the boys. I know that this is the nineties, and I'm fully aware that you can take care of yourselves in most cases. But the fact remains that the boys are physically stronger, and are able to take care of you if needs be.  
  
"Boys, keep an eye out for yourselves, and for the girls. Just remember, don't go looking for trouble. We don't need casualties from fools trying to be heroes.  
  
"You'll all be staying in school for the rest of today, but this mornings lessons are being cancelled for you to try and absorb the shock and information. Remember, your teachers and councillors are on hand if you need to talk, ask questions, or offer any information. Please, stay alive and well." As she left the stage Principal Morgan was shaking visibly. Stefan doubted anyone else had noticed. The murmuring started up again as students stayed where they were, unsure what to do. Stefan picked up snatches of conversation.  
  
"...We're not safe. Any one of us could be next..."  
  
"...There's a freaking lunatic on the loose, and instead of going out looking for him, they're holding /us/ prisoners. How is that fair?..."  
  
"...Like, man, it's the aliens. It's gotta be abductions. They're experimenting on us like lab rats." Stefan shot the greasy haired boy an odd look. He held up his hands defensively. "Hey, man. You heard Morgan, she said they might be cult killings. Some people might call aliens a cult thing."  
  
"Why don't you just keep insensitive opinions like that to yourself." Stefan snapped. "Now isn't the time or the place."  
  
"Leave it, Stefan." Cookie said wearily. "He's just shocked. You're in my Biology class next, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Stefan nodded.  
  
"Good. I'll have company bunking then." Cookie said, making to leave the hall.  
  
"Where are we going?" Stefan frowned.  
  
"Jess and Zia's French class. That's the most comfortable room out of our first period lessons. We need to be together, and that's probably where the others will go."  
  
"Okay." Stefan nodded. "Sounds reasonable."  
  
"Yeah." Cookie grimaced and rubbed at her temples. After a moment her eyes widened in shock. "Adam." She whispered.  
  
"Adam what?"  
  
"Adam. Is he here? /Was/ he here?" She started looking around frantically. "Oh shit, what if he bunked and didn't hear this stuff? What if he's alone?" She was on the verge of hysterics.   
  
Stefan grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Easy, easy. I'll go look for him, okay? What lesson does he have?"  
  
"Okay." Cookie said nodding her head slowly. "He has Math first." Stefan smiled at her reassuringly, and started stretching out with his mind, searching out for Adam. He frowned when he didn't sense him, and started for the main auditorium doors. "Don't go out alone!" Cookie called after him, concern on his face.  
  
He stopped and grinned back at her. ((Don't worry. I can take care of myself.)) He told her mentally. She nodded, and returned a weak grin. *Adam, where the hell are you?* He thought worriedly.  
  
~*~  
  
Adam wasn't in his Math class. No one had seen him, and the teacher became alarmed that he was missing. Stefan had lied, /lied/ he kept telling himself. He never lied outright. He'd told the teacher that he'd seen him in school this morning, that he was looking for him to borrow a book. The teacher had settled down, satisfied. Now Stefan was getting frustrated, and a little worried. He didn't /think/ that anyone would try and attack the boy; he was tall, and even if he wasn't overly muscular, he was well built and obviously able to hold his own in a fight. What was worrying Stefan was that he wasn't sure what they were up against exactly. If it /was/ supernatural or occult, then Adam could be putting himself in a great deal of danger.  
  
The vampire stopped in the middle of the hallway, slamming his arm against the lockers in annoyance. This was getting him nowhere. *If he's bunking, he's not going to be on school grounds, is he.* He chided himself, leaning against the wall to think. *Or is he?* He mused as his gaze fell on the door opposite. The door to the girls' toilets. *Doesn't he have some cubicle he hides in to fiddle with that computer of his? Where?* Stefan boosted himself off the wall and into a run, slamming into every door that displayed the guys' sign. Until he found the cubicle with the tattered 'Out of Order' notice taped to the outside. He grinned. Someone was in there alright. It /felt/ like Adam, but he hadn't known him long enough to be entirely sure. Slipping into the cubicle next door, he boosted himself up off the toilet seat rim to find out for sure. *I'd better be right, or this is gonna be /really/ embarrassing.*  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised the figure sat on the toilet seat, head resting on arms, was his errant friend. Then the anger hit him. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?"  
  
Adam's head snapped up. "Huh?"  
  
"You've freaked your sister out, you've had /me/ worried, you've had you're teacher worried. What's worse is I actually /lied/ to cover your ass. Did you even bother to come hear what Principal Morgan had to say?"  
  
"Yeah." Adam shrugged. "And?"  
  
"And? Did you actually listen? Did you take any of it in? Don't bother answering, it looks all too much like you didn't." Stefan ranted. "'Rule' number two. No one is to go anyplace on their own. That was /no one/. That /includes/ you."  
  
"Jeez. Get off my case, would you. I'm in /school/."  
  
"So was Tatum. And she ended up on a slab in the morgue." Stefan growled. Adam actually flinched at that.  
  
"I can take care of myself."  
  
"/Not/ in this. There's something nasty at work here. Haven't you learned anything these past couple of days? Didn't Tuesday night tell you /anything/? There are things out there, dark things, things parents tell their kids to make them behave. But they're /real/, the monsters in the dark exist."  
  
Adam arched a brow. "I live with witches. I /know/ that there's stuff out there."  
  
Stefan shook his head, irritated. He made a snap decision, and boosted himself into the cubicle, fangs bared. He grabbed the startled boy by his shirt collar and rammed him against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but forceful enough to convey his strength.  
  
"Look at me, Adam Tate. /Look/." He snarled. "/I'm/ one of those things, I'm one of those dark creatures, I'm some people's worst nightmare. /We're/ out there, and we're /dangerous/."  
  
"Let /go/." Adam was struggling to release himself, bristling with anger, and a little fear. "Freaking well get /off/ me."  
  
Stefan tightened his grip a little, getting the point across that Adam was helpless, that the boy could do nothing. "I could kill you easily." He warned. "I could take you down, and you wouldn't even know about it if I so chose. I could drain you right here, right now. But I won't, because I care, because I don't like taking life. Whoever it is out there, /whatever/ it is, doesn't share the same beliefs that I do. It will take you down if it gets you alone, it will kill you, and it will /enjoy/ it. It will steal your Lifeforce, and it will do /bad/ things with it. Think on that. And then think long and hard about just /who/ you'll be hurting if you go and get yourself killed through your stupidity. Your mom, your sister, your friends. Me." Stefan released his grip on Adam's shirt and stared down at the floor. "It'll hurt if something happens to you, and what's more, I'll feel /responsible/ because it'd be as if I'd failed you because I hadn't protected you."  
  
"I didn't ask for you to protect me." Adam muttered, but the anger had left his voice.  
  
"No. But please excuse me if I can't shake of some old fifteenth century values." Stefan sighed, moving as far back from the boy as he could in the small space, to give him a little room. "Please, just stick with us. If you can't defend yourself against /me/, what are you going to do if something /worse/ catches you alone?"  
  
"Okay, okay. Quit lecturing me. I /get/ it. You don't have to hammer it home any more." He said miserably.  
  
"Good." Stefan replied wearily. He unlocked the cubicle door and slipped out. "Coming?" Adam followed him out a moment later.  
  
"Let me guess. Zia's French class." Adam said as they left the bathroom.  
  
"Bingo." Stefan said. He paused in the hall. "Wherever it is."  
  
"This way." Adam sighed, jerking his head behind them. "Oh, /damn/..."  
  
Lydia. Stefan assumed the blond with her was Bruce. He eyed them up and down warily.  
  
"Such a shame about your friends." Lydia pouted, her voice oozing with mock sincerity. "And to think we moved here to get /away/ from angst. I'm beginning to think we should go home. It might be safer."  
  
"I wish you would." Adam snapped, dragging Stefan away from them. Lydia's laughter followed them.  
  
"But it's so much more /entertaining/ here." Bruce called after them. "Why would we want to leave when we can stay and annoy /you/?" He joined in with Lydia's laughter.  
  
The hackles on Stefan's neck rose and he shuddered. "That was /not/ good." He said when they were out of earshot. "Lydia made me uneasy. The pair of them together made me want to bolt. Or kill them."  
  
"That might not be such a bad idea." Adam growled. "Killing them, I mean. If you did, I wouldn't be sorry to seem them go."  
  
Stefan glanced back over his shoulder. "I'd consider it, but they'd probably taste /real/ bad."  
  
"Vampire humour. Wonderful." Adam rolled his eyes. "It might even be funny, if I were a member of your little 'society'."  
  
"Oh, you don't even want to be /thinking/ about that." Stefan said quietly. Adam shrugged, silence between them the rest of the way to the French room.  
  
  



	10. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Ten)  
  
The search was nearing hopeless. Damon, Mike, Cookie and Zia had spent the past two days after school scouring the town for anyone suspicious.  
  
They weren't the only people searching; the police, for one, and Jackson Kent, Tatum's father, was another. He'd hired private investigators, although private was far from what they were being. Damon had feared they could prove a problem for Stefan and himself, but if their current actions were anything to go by, the vampires had nothing to worry about. They weren't being thorough /or/ discreet.  
  
Students from Redditch High were on the prowl, too. Suspicious of anyone who displayed characteristics out of the norm, accusing anyone who was outright odd. The police had been forced to break up several fights that had been the result of false accusations.  
  
Out of all the people searching for the killer, only Damon's group of friends were on the lookout for anything supernatural. The police might have been searching for an occult link, but they weren't looking for anything /real/, didn't realise how serious the reality could be. The small group of friends were all too aware, and that spurred them on. But they were becoming disillusioned.  
  
Friday afternoon, and searching wasn't getting /anyone/ anywhere. The police had found where Bernadette had been killed, but nothing else. All anyone could do was wait for the killer's next move, and hope whoever it was slipped up.  
  
That annoyed Damon. He hated waiting for anyone he didn't choose to. He hated being subject to another's actions, hated the lack of control he had over the situation. His temper was starting to wear thin. Cookie and Mike had long ago resorted to bickering with one another, and the normally calm and sensible Zia was visibly wound up, just as annoyed with the other two as Damon was.  
  
"Stop it!" Zia shrieked at them after what seemed to be the millionth snide remark aimed at each other. She'd actually stamped her foot in frustration. "Just shut up!" Damon winced and his hand flew up to cover the ear nearest to Zia. She'd hit on an irritating pitch.  
  
"Hey, /he/ started it." Cookie snapped, jabbing a finger towards Mike.  
  
"You just can't take a joke." Mike defended himself.  
  
"That was /not/ a joke, that was a spiteful dig at me."  
  
"Yeah, well it's true. Your stupid 'gift' kicks in giving us all this stuff when we don't need it, but just when it would be /really/ handy, you can't do a thing."  
  
"Dammit, I /told/ you that I don't know what I'm looking for. There'd be no point doing it because it won't tell us anything we don't already know. I'd have to be specific." Mike slumped his shoulders, finally defeated.  
  
"What about that pendulum thing. Get it looking for the killer." Damon suggested.  
  
"/It/ won't know who it is. It's /me/ channelling the power to the pendulum. I can't find something I have no idea about." Cookie snapped at him. He clenched his jaw to bite back a retort.  
  
"Ouija board? Talk to Tatum or Bernadette?"  
  
"Michael Webber, you of all people should know better than to suggest that in front of me." Cookie chastised.   
  
"Under normal circumstances, yeah. But this is different."  
  
"No way am I having anything to do with Ouija boards. They are Bad News."  
  
"So we sit here doing nothing, then?"  
  
"We're not doing /nothing/." Zia interjected. "We're doing the best we can."  
  
Damon had had enough. "/You/ might be doing the best you can, but /I'm/ not."  
  
"What can you do in this instance that we can't?" Cookie pointed out.  
  
"I can get into far more places by myself than I can with you around. I can spy on people right under their noses, and I can do things where I don't have to worry about your precious mortal necks being broken." He snapped. "Probably by me. I've had enough of this, and you two," He glared at Cookie and Mike, "Are driving me to distraction. I'm running out of patience. I think it's time I went my own way for a while. You three can keep searching if you like. Although I wouldn't bother if I were you. You won't do any better than we've already done."  
  
"Oh, so where will /you/ be?" Mike glared.  
  
"Searching the town, far more thoroughly than a human could."  
  
"Moving faster? You'll probably miss more."  
  
"Not from where I'll be searching." Damon replied, grinning ferally.  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
"I'm going to get a birds eye view of the situation." He said smugly as his form shimmered and blurred before the startled teenagers. The crow beat it's wings and soared off into the sky, feeling satisfied as the three of them stared up beneath him, mouths open wide with shock.  
  
~*~  
  
Stefan's team hadn't found anything, either. They'd spent hours trailing around looking for /anything/, and were feeling disheartened. Adam and Jess were now pacing the sidewalk impatiently as Stefan sat on the concrete emptying a pebble from his boot.  
  
Stefan heard footsteps, and looked up from tying his boot lace to see Cookie, Mike and Zia approaching them, eyes a little wide. *What's wrong with them?* He wondered.  
  
"What are you guys doing here?" Jess asked, confused. "And where's Damon?"  
  
"We weren't having much luck." Zia told them dumbly.  
  
"And Damon went off by himself." Mike supplied. Stefan pursed his lips. Mike noticed. "To search." He defended the missing vampire.  
  
"So why are you acting so weird?" Adam's brow creased in confusion. "You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
"He went to get a 'birds eye view', he said."  
  
"He didn't?" Stefan asked, groaning.  
  
"Didn't what?" Jess frowned.  
  
"He turned into this crow, right in front of our eyes." Cookie and Zia nodded to confirm what Mike was saying. "Man, I never thought anything could do that."  
  
"I'll kill him." Stefan growled. "Did anyone else see?"  
  
Cookie looked at him dryly. "He might be irresponsible, but he's not /that/ stupid. He has lasted five centuries after all."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder how." Stefan muttered.  
  
"You know how." Cookie muttered.  
  
Stefan shot her a quizzical look. "Yeah, I guess I do." He shook his head and changed the subject. "So I guess we team up and search together."  
  
Zia shrugged. "We could. But Damon's probably had a good idea. Maybe we...humans should search together, and you go and do what Damon's doing too."  
  
Stefan shifted uncomfortably. *Why am I uncomfortable?* He wondered, puzzled. "I can't." He admitted after a moment.  
  
"What?" Zia blinked. "But Damon can, and you're the same age..."  
  
"My Powers aren't normally strong enough. His are." Stefan muttered.  
  
"Why's that."  
  
"Because I don't drink human blood. We can live off animal blood, but it's human blood that has Power." He said wretchedly, staring at the ground and feeling a little embarrassed. *Since when have /you/ been bothered about Power?* He asked himself.  
  
"And Damon drinks..." Adam trailed off, absently massaging his neck and looking uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah." Stefan nodded, finishing the sentence. "He drinks human blood."  
  
They were all silent, unsure what to say.  
  
"So why don't you?" Jess asked, staring at him questioningly.  
  
"He won't use humans." Cookie put in. Stefan's head flew up to meet Cookie's eyes. "Damon 'told' me." She explained.  
  
Stefan shrugged. "That's the reason. I won't use humans. I won't treat them...you as cattle."  
  
"So, call me dumb, but if vampires are supposed to drink human blood to get Power, why did you become one?" Jess asked.  
  
"Love." Stefan sighed. "And an immensely stupid fight with Damon. I might tell you one day. Just not now." He shot a warning glance at Cookie. He had a feeling she knew about that. Damon hadn't told him exactly what Cookie had been doing in his head, but he had an idea now. He started moving down the street. "Come on. We might as well keep on searching."  
  
Jess slipped next to him. "So, /can/ you change your shape?" She asked.  
  
He stared at her a moment. "I could. I could probably do it right now, but the amount of Power it would take would leave me pretty weak and immensely hungry." He told her. "So it's better that I don't do it unless I absolutely have to."  
  
"Wouldn't it just be easier to drink human blood?"  
  
"Probably." He replied. "But I won't use humans as a food source."  
  
"What if they /wanted/ to give it you?" Jess pointed out. Stefan opened his mouth to say no, but then shut it again, frowning. Bonnie, Matt and Meredith had offered it once, offered him blood. He'd refused, said he wouldn't fight evil with evil. But would he have been? He was what he was, and someone offering it would be offering because they care, out of friendship, perhaps out of love. *How can something offered with friendship be evil?* He puzzled. Then he grimaced. *I've been around Damon too long. I can't believe I'm even thinking about this. I will /not/ touch human blood.* He told himself fiercely. But deep inside, doubt began gnawing at his stomach. */Nothing given in love can be evil. Love /conquers/ evil/* it whispered to him. He slammed down on it and refused to listen. He couldn't listen, not at the moment.  
  
~*~  
  
As much as Damon hated admitting it to himself, the birds eye perspective on things was beginning to look like a waste of time. He'd been circling around the town for more than an hour, and even passed over Stefan and the others twice. The second time he'd felt a twinge of annoyance when they'd slumped their way into Debbie's Diner. *Slackers.* He thought, heading in the direction of the woods. They'd reminded him he was hungry, and the hot burning sensation in his veins pushed itself to the forefront of his mind, telling him to feed.  
  
What he /wanted/ was to find a nice young girl, seduce her a little, then take his fill in a secluded area. What he had to make do with was far from his wish. *Rabbit.* He scowled inwardly. *Fox. Chicken. What an appetising menu /that/ is.* He thought sarcastically, and tried not to dwell on it. He had no choice. To drink human blood now was too dangerous. The chances of finding anyone alone at the moment were as near to impossible as made any difference, and even if he did, the uproar it would cause if the blood donor remembered what happened was bound to mean the end for Stefan and himself. Killing was out of the option. It would only risk implicating himself in the entirely stupid murder situation. *Better sticking to animal blood.* He thought resignedly. He hadn't survived five hundred years not knowing when and where it was safe to feed, and the town of Redditch was neither the time nor the place at the moment.  
  
The leafy canopy of Redditch's woodland area was beginning to turn golden with the first signs of Fall. Damon circled above for a few moments, then glided down into the thick of the woods, landing on the branch of large beech tree. His senses picked up out the mind of a fox, and he launched himself off the branch, preparing to change back to his human form and pursue the animal. Then he heard a sound a little into the trees from his left. Human sounds, sounds of pain. Then the scream. It was a scream of raw terror that grabbed at Damon, and the Power that followed it caused him to change direction in mid flight, heading urgently towards the sound. Then the scream stopped abruptly.  
  
Damon landed cautiously on a branch outside a small clearing. Power still thrummed throughout the place, and the scent of fresh blood washed over him. He pushed back the burning of his veins, and concentrated on the scene before him. A male and female, both blonde, both looking about Jess and Cookie's age. Eighteen, maybe. The boy that lay on the ground between them was quite obviously dead, and quite obviously the third victim if his wounds were anything to judge by. Damon's only thought for the boy was his foolishness for getting into this situation. His attention turned to the killers as they began arguing.  
  
"Oh, wonderful choice, brother dearest." The girls spat. "I /said/ we should have kept with the girls."  
  
"How was /I/ to know he'd be a problem? I just don't understand why he screamed. The others didn't."  
  
"You dumb idiot, haven't you worked it out?" She sighed in exasperation as the boy stared at her blankly. "Men are physically stronger. It was easy for the two of us to subdue the girls, but when it came to this guy, we expended more energy than the last two times. We were tired. We weren't /concentrating/ properly."  
  
"So he wasn't entirely under our power." The boy nodded.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"We were lucky he came out here alone, then." The boy's voice shook a little. "If he'd screamed like that any closer to the town, people would know about it. We're safe."  
  
"This time." The girl snapped. *Don't bet on it, sweetheart.* Damon thought savagely. */I/ know who you are now.*  
  
"We stick to the girls from now on, then." The boy sighed. They were silent for a few seconds, and a brief hum of Power surged from them. Damon shielded himself, wary of the source of the Power. *What the hell was /that/?* He wondered, becoming even more baffled when the boy spoke next.  
  
"I notice you don't participate in choosing victims." He snapped. "If we'd have known this to start with, we wouldn't have had a problem." The silence lasted longer this time as the pair began to pick up their belongings, removing all trace that they were ever there.  
  
Part of Damon was tempted to take them out then and there, but he resisted it. They'd end up being considered two more victims of the killer, and the town would never rest easy, always wondering when and if the killer would strike next. That aside, he was unsure about the Power he'd felt. It probably wouldn't be much of a threat, but a nagging in his mind told him it wasn't a good idea to face it if he didn't have to, and Damon trusted his instincts more than anything else.  
  
"That crow is giving me the creeps." The girl said suddenly. Damon blinked in surprise. He hadn't realised he'd been seen. *Time to leave.* He told himself, and spread his wings to take off.  
  
"It won't be for much longer." The boy said viciously from behind him. There was only a small amount of moment, and then the rock impacted with Damon in mid flight.  
  
It had slammed full force into his wing, and he plummeted to the ground a little way back into the trees. He changed quickly, rolling to his feet as he landed, cradling his arm gently with his body, protecting it from the fall. He cursed vehemently, and ran as far and as fast as possible from the scene. He didn't want to face them, not then. He stopped a few minutes later to examine his arm, and swore again. Broken. It made him angry. He rarely got hurt, and to get injured as badly as this from a stupid stone made him furious. A stone thrown by a stupid human. That made it worse. *Stupid.* He thought. *You should have gotten out of there sooner. No normal crow would have stayed there for that long.* He growled at himself, and started the walk back to town, concentrating on healing his arm as he went.  
  
~*~  
  
He trudged into the diner half an hour later, arm healed, and a sour expression on his face. He was even hungrier now, and the odour of the humans in the place wasn't helping. Spying Stefan in a corner booth, he walked over and slid into the space Zia made the group shuffled round to make room.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.  
  
"I'm tired, I'm hungry, and some bastard just broke my arm." He growled. "Not that kind of hungry." He sighed when Zia pushed her burger in front of him.  
  
"You broke your arm?" Jess asked surprised. "How? It looks pretty healthy to me."  
  
"I healed it. It's still very sore." Damon replied shortly. "And I had a rock thrown at my wing. The guy's aim was too good."  
  
"Is the guy still alive?" Stefan asked, arching a brow.  
  
Damon glared at him. "Yes. Unfortunately. Although you might wish I /had/ killed him."  
  
"Oh? Care to enlighten us?"  
  
"He's the killer." Damon reached over for a fry. "Or one of them, anyway."  
  
A chorus of shocked voices followed. "What?!"  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"You've found the killer?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"We gotta take this to the police."  
  
"Keep your damned voices down." Damon hissed. "We can't take it to the police. It's a little more complicated than that."  
  
"How?" Cookie demanded.  
  
"How? For one, how do I explain the fact I was out alone in the woods alone? It won't look good. 'Excuse me Mr Police-Officer, but I saw two people I don't know killing some poor kid in the woods. What was I doing there? Oh, well, I was out hunting. You see, I'm a blood sucking vampire. Oh yes, that's a good reason for slitting someone's throat, to hide the bite marks. No, I'm not crazy. No, it wasn't me that killed any of those people. Honest.' You see, as far as the police are concerned, I could be making this all up to cover my own ass. I have no reason to have been out in the woods by myself that isn't in the slightest suspicious. So, I'm not going to the police, because I don't want to be implicated. But that's not the only reason." He said, inspecting what drinks everyone had. He settled for Jess's orange juice, then raised an eyebrow at her plate. "Salad?"  
  
"I'm on a special diet." She muttered. "So what other reasons are there?"  
  
"Power." He told them.  
  
"Yeah, well we assumed that anyway." Adam said. "They want Power. That's why they're killing people."  
  
"Yes, but there's an unusual source of Power /with/ them. It could be dangerous, and the police aren't going to take any notice of that danger. Letting the police at them would be like putting a grenade in the hands of a child. They'll pull the damn pin."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Who knows. Whatever it is, it won't be good."  
  
"How do you know it isn't them?" Cookie asked.  
  
Damon sighed. "I just do. It wasn't exactly there when I first came across them. Then after they'd killed ..."  
  
"Oh shit." Zia moaned as the facts hit her. "That's another kid dead. Who?"  
  
"How should I know?" Damon scowled at the interruption. "May I continue? Good. As I was saying, they had an argument after they'd killed the guy. It was just them. Then there was a surge of Power, and the boy started talking to someone who wasn't there. So, either he's schizophrenic, or he was talking to someone, or /something/, that wasn't there."  
  
"Oh." Cookie said mutely. "So what do we do?"  
  
"Go somewhere more private." Damon suggested. "This isn't exactly the safest of places to talk. And the last thing we need is someone picking up on what these guys look like. The town will turn into a lynch mob after anyone who even vaguely looks like those two. Now, is there anywhere we can go without parents in the way? I'd suggest our place, except the neighbours are having a party this evening, so it won't be quiet."  
  
"We can go to my place." Zia offered. "My parents took my grandmother out for the afternoon. They're having a meal out, so they won't be back till later this evening."  
  
"Perfect." Damon smiled grimly, and stood up.  
  
"Hey, don't we get to finish our meals first?" Mike protested.  
  
"Fine. Finish your food. Just wait here for me." Damon sighed impatiently.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"If I don't feed soon, I'll end up ripping the throat out of the next healthy person who passes. After Cookie's stunt on Tuesday I've not been a hundred percent healthy, and healing my arm has drained my resources. So I'm off to hunt." He told them and headed for the door.  
  
((And don't bother worrying about the young ladies of Redditch.)) He told his brother. ((I'll stick to the woodland creatures. Until this whole fiasco is over, at any rate.))  
  
  



	11. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Eleven)  
  
Zia lived in a small apartment building with her parents and her grandmother. It was like any other apartment, except for the sitting room with it's large wooden floor space and high ceiling. Two couches lined one corner of the room with a coffee table between them. The television and stereo system sat next to one of the couches, the speakers placed at strategic points around the room to produce maximum effect. A giant painting of a heather covered hill scene covered one of the walls not taken up with the couches, preventing the room from looking too bare. Evening sunlight streaked in through the three high windows on the other bare wall, the sills low and strewn with cushions to make more seating space. Damon's opinion had been that the place would make one hell of a venue for a party. It's main purpose, Zia had informed them, was for her dancing. Her father used to dance professionally, and that was the reason her parents had bought the apartment originally. When her father had retired from professional dancing, they'd considered moving, but their daughter had shown such a passion for dance that they'd decided it best to keep the place. As it was, Mr Thompson had decided to take up teaching it in his spare time, so the place had come in handy.  
  
On the way over, everyone had insisted that they should at least phone the police with an anonymous tip to find the body, and Damon had finally relented, putting the call in at a phone box a mile from Zia's place. Now the group were sitting in a circle of beanbags in the middle of the floor. Zia's grandmother had gone through a period of buying the things, and now they littered various parts of the room. A strange subdued silence had fallen over them all.  
  
"You're sure that's what they looked like?" Adam asked in a strangled voice.  
  
"Positive." Damon nodded. "Why?"  
  
"Sounds like Bruce and Lydia."  
  
"Very much like them." Cookie agreed, the colour gone from her cheeks.  
  
"But how? I never suspected they had it in them to do this." Zia whispered.  
  
"As I've said, they were talking to /something/." Damon repeated. "I don't think they're doing it alone. They're in league with someone."  
  
"That's supposed to make us feel any better?" Adam snapped. "We're /related/ to these guys."  
  
Damon shrugged indifferently, earning a chastising look from his brother.  
  
"I realise this makes it harder on you." Stefan said. "And you have the option of staying out of this if you want. It's not fair to put you through this."  
  
"No. We're in." Cookie said, quiet, but firm. "The fact that we're related means we have to. Responsibility. We deal with our own."  
  
"Okay. If you're sure." Stefan nodded. "So, we know whose doing it, even if we're not sure why. At least we're getting /somewhere/ now. What next? Do we confront them? Or do we see what they do next?"  
  
"I say we find out what that Power is they have lurking round them." Damon suggested. "Then we'll know what we're up against."  
  
"I agree." Cookie sided with Damon.  
  
"So how do we do it?" Mike asked.  
  
"Jess, go get me a candle and matches, would you please?" Cookie requested, licking her lips.  
  
"Ah ha." Stefan said, lip quirking. "She's doing druidy things it seems."  
  
"Witchy things, actually."  
  
"What sort of 'witchy' things, dare I enquire?" Damon asked.  
  
"I'm gonna use my gift." She grinned at him.  
  
"With a candle." Damon said flatly, eyes wary. "Well, I think I'll leave. Bad things happen with psychics and candles, and it almost always causes trouble for me." He said, moving to get up as Jess returned with matches, the candle and a holder.  
  
"Sit down, Damon." Stefan sighed. "We're already /in/ trouble. This can't make it any worse."  
  
"If the pair of you would shut up, I could concentrate better." The witch said, shooting the pair of them a withering glance. Damon sat down again, scowling.  
  
"So what /are/ you going to do?" Stefan asked as she put the candle in the holder on the floor and lit a match. "Bonnie used to get taken over by the dead when she did this."  
  
Cookie shot him an odd look. "Perhaps she hadn't got full control of her Powers, then." She suggested, holding the match to the wick, then shaking the flame out. The candle flame shrunk a little before growing into the full yellow tear of fire. Zia shut the heavy drapes to shut out the sunlight, and the candle flame lit everyone with an eerie glow. "Fire," She said, "Is age old, primal, hypnotic. It sparks something in the soul, mesmerising it with it's beauty, holding it both in fear and awe with it's destructive ability, it's hunger for fuel. It provides us with warmth to survive, but it can also take it away from us if it gets out of control. It is truly a force of nature.  
  
"Fire is also a method of divining. Stare into the flames of a fire long enough, and, as the real world fades, you'll see things, images, visions. As I've said, fire hypnotises you, puts you into a trance, a level of consciousness where you are open to receiving images and messages. You can learn things, things of importance, things that you need to know. Places, people, things."  
  
"Excuse me, this lecture on fire is very interesting, but how is it going to help us get the exact information we want?" Damon inquired sceptically.  
  
"Bonnie found me using a similar method. Apparently she was inside my mind." Stefan pointed out. Damon shut up.  
  
"Remind me to thank Bonnie if I ever meet her." Cookie muttered. "If she can shut him up, she must be one hell of a girl." Stefan bit back a laugh. "To answer your question, Damon, I intend to do something /similar/ to what Bonnie did with Stefan. But I don't want to get /that/ close. I don't know what, if anything, is lurking round them. The last thing we need is that on a rampage, or Bruce and Lydia knowing we know."  
  
"Sounds sensible." Stefan said. "Shall we get on with it?"  
  
"In a minute." Cookie said, turning to Adam. "I don't want you here when I do this. You know them too well, and I don't want to be distracted if you explode over something. Sorry."  
  
"Fine." Adam looked almost relieved. "I'll be in the kitchen. I'll make you a sandwich or something for when you finish."  
  
"That'd be great." Cookie smiled, then turned back to the candle. She waited until Adam had closed the kitchen door, then closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. When she opened them again, she was staring directly into the candle. Everyone else was watching her with fascination. Her eyes glazed over, and she began to breath more rapidly.  
  
"You okay?" Jess whispered, concerned.  
  
"I see an attic." Cookie spoke softly, not hearing Jess. "It's raining hard. It's jumbled, disjointed. Like a dream."  
  
"Is it a dream?" Damon asked.  
  
Cookie shook her head a little. "No. I think...I think they're memories of some kind. It's a little like waking up, the disorientation. There's blood, and fire. A candle, I think. The haziness is clearing now. Two people. They're sitting on the floor. I'm inside a chalk circle, they're outside it. A boy and a girl. The boy is holding his hand. It looks like he's cut it." Cookie frowned. "They're Bruce and Lydia. Why are they outside a circle? What have they done?" She whimpered a little, and stopped talking to them, breathing becoming faster, more ragged.  
  
"Cookie?" Jess asked again. "You alright, hun?"  
  
"No!" Cookie jerked suddenly, then slumped down on the floor. "Idiots. Stupid, stupid idiots." She moaned. Zia pulled back the drapes to let light it while Mike helped Cookie sit upright.  
  
"What happened?" Stefan asked, pinching the candle flame out with his fingers.  
  
"I know what they've done." Cookie said wearily. "They summoned something up. Some kind of spirit, a bad spirit. They wanted Power. Only it was tricky. They didn't realise that they had it's Power while it was trapped in their circle. It persuaded them to break the circle, telling them it was the only way. And when they did, it went in to them."  
  
"So that's what they were talking to." Damon mused.  
  
"If we want to do anything with them, we have to get rid of that thing." Cookie's voice was shaking. "And we have to do it soon. They're planning something, only the spirit's plans don't stop there. It wants to have a life. That's why they're taking Lifeforce. Whether or not they know that..." Cookie trailed off. "If that thing gets a body of it's own, it spells big trouble. We /have/ to stop it. We have to banish it."  
  
"So do we send it back to where it came from?" Jess asked.  
  
Cookie shook her head. "No. That would be too difficult. I say we let it dissipate. The thing can't survive out of a it's own place, or out of a body."  
  
"What about the circle?" Mike frowned.  
  
"It had Bruce's blood. It survived off that." She sighed. "The fools. Blood can attract bad things if you don't know what you're doing."  
  
"Excuse me for saying so, but I think that was what they wanted." Damon pointed out.  
  
"That makes this even worse to deal with. I just don't know /why/ they want to do this. I can't see why /anyone/ would want to do this." She sighed, and slumped back into her beanbag.  
  
The kitchen door opened, and Adam poked his head through. "Finished?" He checked, before coming through the door with a tray of drinks and snacks. Cookie gratefully nibbled on a sandwich.  
  
"Thanks." She said.  
  
"Find anything out?"  
  
"Oh yeah." Cookie replied bitterly, and told him.  
  
"I think we should tell mom." He said finally. The others stared at him. "Hey, she'll believe us. She knows a lot more about this kind of thing than even Cookie does. I for one would feel better if we had an adult on our side. Adults have experience."  
  
"Compared to five hundred years of my life?" Damon grinned.  
  
"You know what I mean." Adam rolled his eyes. "Despite all the time you've lived, you're still kids at heart, right?"  
  
Stefan sighed. "Rather knowledgeable and world weary kids, but yeah, you're right. I think you have a point. Maybe we /should/ involve your mother. If you think it'll help."  
  
"Fine." Cookie shrugged. "I'll talk with her this evening. I'm not moving at the moment, though."  
  
"Until then, why don't we watch the news." Zia suggested. "They might have something on there about the third kid."  
  
"Must we?" Mike moaned.  
  
"I think we should at least find out who it is." Zia glared at him, switching the TV set on.  
  
'/The town officials of Redditch have declared it an emergency situation this evening as police found the body of the third victim of what looks like a serial killer on the rampage. Police were tipped by an anonymous phone call to the location of the body, who has been identified as nineteen year old Neil Cooper, a college student returning home for a short break. Once again, the police have no leads, and are anxious for the young man who phoned them to identify himself. If has any information, /please/ call in on this hotline./'  
  
Zia switched the set off, and perched on the edge of one of the couches. "That's Claire Cooper's older brother." She whispered numbly. "She's the year below us, and does dance after school with my group. She's one of the sweetest things. And Neil was a great guy, too. He used to drive some of us home after the lessons, didn't even ask for gas money. Just did it out of the kindness of his heart." Her voice choked a little. "He did it to make sure nothing like that ever happened to any of us. Look where it got him." The tears spilled over and fell down her cheeks, and Mike rushed over, holding her tightly and rocking her gently.  
  
"We have to stop them." Cookie said, determination in her voice.  
  
"Don't worry. we will." Damon assured her, voice as cold as ice. "One way or another, we'll stop them.  
  
~*~  
  
Bruce paced across Lydia's bedroom floor, fist pressed against his mouth. He was nervous. "Why now? We've only taken three Lifeforces; they can't be enough yet. Why so soon?"  
  
/Three are plenty enough and more for what you desire./  
  
Bruce frowned suspiciously. "I was led to understand your needs came first?"  
  
/This will be aiding my needs. To much attention has been drawn to this. There are.../beings/ here that suspect. They may even know you. They can stop you. It is safer to do what it is you came to do, then move on./  
  
"What beings?"  
  
The voice was reluctant. /Killers. Creatures of the Night./  
  
"Why would /they/ stop us?" Lydia asked from her bed. She was confused.  
  
/Let us just say that are...territorial. They stake their claim on a place, and don't like other predators intruding./  
  
Lydia sighed, annoyed. "It won't look good if we move on." She said.  
  
/We will wait a few weeks. Until the fuss dies down, until the towns people are no longer suspicious of even their own neighbours. Then we shall move on./ It assured them.  
  
"Where?" She asked, pouting.  
  
"To the city. It's so big that no one will be as bothered or shocked about the killings. And there'll be less chance of finding the killers there." Bruce smirked.  
  
/You speak sense. You are learning./ The voice rasped out it's dry laugh. Bruce grew even more smug at the compliment, causing Lydia to scowl, then turn away and sulk.  
  
"When do we do the spell?" Bruce asked.  
  
/Tonight. Now. As soon as you have prepared for it, gathered the implements./  
  
"They're all here." Lydia sniffed, hooking a bag out from under her bed with her foot. "I made sure we had them before we started the killings."  
  
/Good. Very good./ This time it was Lydia's turn to be smug.  
  
"Where are we doing it?" Bruce asked.  
  
/Here. It is the best place to ensure success./  
  
"Isn't that a bit dangerous? Are you sure we wouldn't be better somewhere else? Somewhere we won't easily be discovered?"  
  
/You question my judgement? Here is safe enough. Close enough for the spell to work./ The voice was angry.  
  
"I'm sorry." Bruce said meekly. "I was just worried."  
  
/Don't be. Now, turn out the lamp and light the candles./ Bruce did this, and Lydia pulled back the large rug from the wooden floor. /Excellent. Lydia, you draw the circle, and do exactly as I tell you. It could be very...bad for you if this goes wrong./ The two followed the voice's directions. They were nervous, frightened. But a desire for vengeance burning from deep inside drove them on, and the thought that they would fail brought greater fear to them than the spell itself. All the while, the voice laughed quietly in the back of their minds, so quiet that they almost thought they were imagining it. Almost.  
  
~*~  
  
Abigail Tate was working in the bottom shed when Cookie eventually found her late that evening.  
  
"Mom?" She asked, sliding in the door and perching on a stool in front of the wooden bench.  
  
"What, honey?" Her mother replied, looking up from the pestle and mortar and smiling at her daughter. Cookie had often perched here as a child, watching Abigail work with her herbs, learning what they were called, what they did. It made her feel safe. Her mother made her feel safe. Somehow her mother made things right. Just being here eased her heart. Still, telling it was going to be difficult.  
  
"I have a problem." She said, chewing her lip.  
  
"What's that?" Abigail pulled up a stool of her own, and sat on it, facing her daughter, sweeping her long, hazel hair out of her face.  
  
"It's kind of about Bruce and Lydia."  
  
Abigail sighed, her face troubled, almost sad. "Oh, honey. I know you don't like them, but they're having so many problems at home right now. Try and live with it."  
  
"It's not that, mom." Cookie said hurriedly. "They're up to something."  
  
"You always think that. Your imagination is overworking." There was no malice in her words.  
  
"No. It's true. They..." She trailed off, miserable and lost.  
  
"They what?"  
  
"They're the ones killing the kids." Her voice came out in a squeaky whisper.  
  
"How can you think that of them? They may not be perfect, but they're still your cousins." Abigail frowned, annoyed.  
  
"I didn't think it of them. It was the last thing I suspected. Someone saw them." Cookie protested.  
  
Her mother tensed up. "Some people like to stir trouble." She said finally. "They're probably making it up. No one here knows them well enough. They're strangers, and people are distrusting of strangers."  
  
"Mom!" Cookie cried. "This is the truth. He wouldn't lie."  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"A new guy from school."  
  
"And you trust his word? But honey, you can't know him that well."  
  
"I trust Damon with my life. He wouldn't lie, he has no reason to. Not about this. He doesn't do things unless he has something to gain from it. Most of the time."  
  
"So this Damon, he saw Bruce and Lydia kill someone?"  
  
"Neil Cooper. If you can't believe me on trust, then believe me on proof. He knew about Neil hours before they announced it. How could he know that if he didn't see it."  
  
"Oh Cookie. You believe a stranger's words over your cousins? For all you know, he could be the one."  
  
"No." Cookie shook her head firmly. "I've seen his soul. It wasn't him. I /know/ it wasn't him." She swallowed before continuing. "And...I used my gift."  
  
"You invaded your cousins minds? I thought I taught you better than that." Abigail was shocked.  
  
"No mom!" She hadn't, not to Bruce and Lydia. But she had to Damon, and her mother's words stung. "No, I didn't do that. I just asked for images. And it's bad."  
  
Abigail slumped. "They really did it? You're sure?"  
  
"Yes, mom." Her breath caught. She had to convince her mother. She /had/ to.  
  
"But why? How could my flesh and blood do such an evil thing?"  
  
"Damon knew why, and what I saw confirms it. I think some of my dreams do, too." With that, the story poured out. Or most of it. She didn't have the right to reveal Stefan and Damon's secret, not if she didn't have to, and so she kept quiet. "You see, mom, they're in it over their heads, and it's too deep for us to stop. We need you." She finished finally. "What they're dealing with is evil, it wants death and destruction. Please. Help us."  
  
Abigail's breathing was ragged. She was furious. "I'll do something. I promise." She said firmly, looking into her daughter's eyes. A weight that Cookie hadn't realised was there was suddenly lifted. She wasn't responsible any more, she realised. She didn't have to take charge. The relief was immense.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Cookie asked, fearful Abigail would confront the pair.  
  
"I'm not going to go to Bruce and Lydia. Stop worrying about that." She reached over and squeezed Cookie's hand reassuringly. "I'm going to call your Granny Tate, and your dad's sister. They'll help, and we should be able to beat it together. Especially if you help."  
  
"I will." Cookie nodded. "I feel kind of responsible, so I'm going to help."  
  
"I'm glad." Her mother smiled, slipping off the stool and pulling Cookie with her. "Come on. We'll go call your Gran now."  
  
They made it as far as the garden path before Abigail's hands flew to her head and her face contorted in pain.  
  
"Mom? Are you okay?"  
  
"Am...ambulance..." Her mother choked out before collapsing to the ground.  
  
"Mom!" Cookie screamed in pure fear, falling on her knees next to the unconscious form of her mother. "Mom! Answer me." Frantically she felt for a pulse. "Mom, don't leave me. /Please/ don't leave me." Finding her mother's faint heart beat, she raced as fast as possible into the house, tears streaming down her face. Her hands trembling, she dialled 911, and prayed they would get there soon.  
  
~*~  
  
Stefan felt helpless as he watched Cookie sitting by the bed, holding her mother's hand. Abigail Tate was wired up to countless machines. Machines that were keeping her alive. Human fragility sometimes scared Stefan a lot. He'd arrived half an hour previously with Adam. He didn't know how to tell her.  
  
"Cookie?" He whispered, wetting his lips. She turned her head slightly, but didn't face him. "Is it okay if I come in?"  
  
"Sure." She said mutely. "Do what you want."  
  
He walked over to her and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Cookie." He winced as she shrugged, her shoulders slumping even further after. "Cookie. We brought Adam in, too." It came out in a rush.  
  
Her head flew up. "What?" She whispered, fear in her voice.  
  
"He collapsed. At Zia's. I drove him here as fast as I could..."  
  
"No." The protestation was no louder than a whisper, but the anger and pain he felt washing from her was as forceful as a slap in the face.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said again.  
  
"No!" She screamed this time, standing up suddenly, turning to face him. He expected the slaps and the punches when they came. He fended them away from his face gently, but didn't stop her. She needed to let it out somehow, and it didn't hurt him, not much. Compared to the pain she was feeling it was nothing. She tired out after a minute or so, and fell to the floor, body shaking with sobs.  
  
He knelt down beside her, pulling her close. "Let it out." He whispered sadly. "Don't be ashamed to let it out." He said softly, gently stroking wisps of blue hair from her tear streaked face. She clung on, as if for dear life, and he sat there, rocking her, telling her it would be okay. But inside, he worried, frightened that things wouldn't be alright again. All he could do was hope.  
  
  



	12. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Twelve)  
  
They'd finally managed to drag Cookie away from the hospital at two in the morning. Jess and Mike's dad had picked them up, insisting the distraught girl stay with them, and giving in to Zia, Stefan and Damon staying at Cookie's insistence. She'd wanted all her friends there, she'd said. She wanted them were she could see them, where she couldn't lose anyone else. They'd humoured her with out of kindness. She'd been worse when her father had died, refused to let her mother and brother out of her sight. Now her only immediate family were both ill, the Webbers wanted to cushion the blow as much as possible.  
  
The remaining six of them sat in Jess and Mike's sitting room, silent and subdued, the early morning grey doing nothing to cheer them. Cookie was huddled on the couch, head resting on Mike's chest and a blanket wrapped around her. She was unresponsive to them, barely acknowledging their worried queries.  
  
"What do we do now?" Jess asked finally. "What do we do without Cookie's mom?"  
  
"We do it ourselves." Stefan sighed. "Like we were prepared to do in the first place."  
  
"But what about Cookie?" Zia pointed out. "We need her."  
  
"You've got me." Cookie mumbled, stirring at last. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy from all the crying, and her cheeks were blotchy. "/They/ did this. I know what they did, and they're going to pay /dearly/ for it." She hissed.  
  
"Bruce and Lydia did this? But I thought it was medical..." Zia trailed off at Damon's arched brow.  
  
"A little coincidental that it would happen to them both, don't you think?" He asked, then turned to Cookie. "So what is it, dare I ask?"  
  
"Evil. That's what it is." She sighed. "I don't know the details. If I did, I'd undo it."  
  
"But you have an idea." Damon paused as the door opened behind him.  
  
Hazel Webber put her head round the door, eyes dark from lack of sleep. "I'm sorry, sweety." She addressed Cookie, eyes sad. "I've been trying to get hold of your Granny Tate all morning, but there isn't any answer. I'll keep at it, though. I'm sure we'll get hold of her soon."  
  
"Thanks." Cookie whispered, hanging her head.  
  
"Jess, don't forget...you know." Hazel turned to her daughter, who in turn scowled back in annoyance.  
  
"I /know/, mom. I'm not going to forget." She said, hunching over her knees, eyes hooded. Her mother held up her hands in apology, and closed the door quietly behind her as she left.  
  
"Don't forget what?" Damon asked, interested.  
  
"None of your business." Jess snapped, then changed the subject. "What's Cookie's theory, then?"  
  
"A spell. A bad, bad spell. They did it with blood, probably, maybe hair. Something personal, something genetic."  
  
"Did what?" Stefan asked, confused, trying to pull her to the present. She was muttering to herself mainly, seemingly forgetting the rest of them. "What did they do."  
  
"Attacked them with some kind of spell, something that would get the whole family. That's why they're in comas. They're trying to fight it off, but it'll drain them, kill them. They'll waste away. They'll leave me." She whispered miserably.  
  
"Cookie, hold on there. You said it would attack the whole family. If that's true, why aren't you affected?" Stefan asked, even more confused than before. She was babbling. "Cookie, why aren't you in a coma?"  
  
"She's adopted." Jess said at last, after it was apparent Cookie wasn't going to reply.  
  
"Adopted." Cookie muttered. "I lost my birth family, now I lose this one." She cried mournfully. Stefan looked at her sadly. Damon's was filled with pity.  
  
Jess continued quietly. "Her parents couldn't have kids, so they adopted Cookie, practically new- born. They discovered a few weeks later that Abigail was pregnant with Adam. I guess it could have ended badly for Cookie, but Abigail and Toby loved them both equally, regardless of the fact she was adopted."  
  
"What happened to her father?" Stefan asked.  
  
"He died about six years ago. Of a brain tumour." Zia told him. "They didn't find it until it was advanced. He only lived for a few more weeks after finding out. It devastated the whole family, but they pulled through. But this..." Zia sighed. "I don't know how Cookie'll cope if they don't pull through."  
  
"We'll make them pull through, then." Stefan muttered, watching Cookie. She'd had her attention on them for a few minutes now.  
  
"But I don't know how." Cookie moaned.  
  
"Then we'll find a way." Damon told her sternly.  
  
"Promise?" She asked, hope shining through the pain. She looked like a lost and vulnerable child.  
  
"I /swear/. If they did it, we can undo it, and we'll start by undoing /them/." Stefan clamped down on a shudder. The savage gleam to his brother's eye was chilling. *He really means this.* Stefan thought with wonder. *Does he /really/ care that much?*  
  
"If we're going to get anywhere, though, we need you to pull yourself together." Mike said softly, stroking her hair. "Think you can do that?"  
  
"I think so." Cookie nodded, a fire in her eyes.  
  
"So what do we do?" Zia asked.  
  
"We get that thing out of them. Leave that to me." She said. "We need a place where no one will interfere."  
  
"Our apartment." Stefan offered.  
  
Cookie nodded.  
  
"If you're sure. You guys have to work out how to get Bruce and Lydia there without arousing their suspicion. It might alert the spirit is they're suspicious."  
  
"I think I know a way to do that." Damon said, a grim smile on his face.  
  
"Good. The sooner we do this the better."  
  
"Is tonight too soon?"  
  
"I can be ready. It's up to you. Just don't let them know you're with me." She took a deep breath, then faced her friends. "I don't want you in there. I don't want you in danger. You can't do anything, so it's better if you're well away."  
  
"Cookie..." Jess began to protest.  
  
"No, Jess. You won't be of any use. It'd be better if you just kept an eye on things around town. If I fail, all hell /might/ break loose."  
  
"She's right, Jess." Stefan told the red head. "It's better if we stay out. Cookie knows what she's doing." He was a little surprised at himself. For once, he wasn't demanding to do it himself, for once he was letting the humans take things into their own hands. It was because he had no choice, he realised, that there was nothing much he /could/ do. Except hope and pray that Cookie could do it.  
  
"I'm staying with you." Damon spoke up. It was a statement, and his voice left no room for argument. Stefan swelled with pride.  
  
Cookie stared at him a moment, meeting his defiant gaze. She nodded. "Fine. But the rest of you keep a distance. If we fail, you're the backup. You'll be all that's ready to stop it."  
  
~*~  
  
"We're leaving this evening." Bruce muttered around a mouthful of burger.  
  
"Won't that seem a little weird?" Lydia frowned. "I mean, Aunt Abby, Adam and Cookie are in hospital, and we just up and leave?"  
  
"I don't think anyone will think that. After all, Aunt Abby can't take care of us." He smirked. "Everyone will assume we've gone home."  
  
"But what about when mom and dad call to see how we are?"  
  
"Like they'll care. So far as they're concerned, Aunt Abby'll call /them/ if there's a problem. They aren't going to bother to call themselves."  
  
Lydia sighed. "I guess you're right."  
  
"I know it sucks. But if they won't care for us, we'll do it."  
  
"We gonna go by bus?"  
  
"I guess so. Seems the easiest way."  
  
"It seems kind of scary, being on our own." Lydia chewed her lip nervously.  
  
"We'll be fine." Bruce grinned. "You'll see."  
  
Lydia peered around Bruce's shoulder. "There's a kid looking at us." She frowned. Seeing her look, the boy walked over to them.  
  
"Are you Bruce and Lydia Franklin?" He asked.  
  
"Who wants to know?" Bruce asked, his stomach suddenly knotting with nerves.  
  
"Uh, I have a message for you." He said, proffering an envelope.  
  
"Who gave this to you?"  
  
The boy looked puzzled. "I...I'm not sure. A guy. I think." He frowned. "That's weird. I don't really remember."  
  
"Have you got to wait for a reply?" Lydia asked.  
  
"No. Not that I remember."  
  
"Well why are you still standing there, then?" She snapped, glaring. The boy gulped, and backed away hastily. Lydia turned to her brother, who was fingering the envelope. Creamy coloured, the paper was expensive. "Well, open it." She urged him. Bruce picked up his dinner knife, and slit the top of the envelope open. The writing paper was also expensive looking, the writing on it bold and elegant. Bruce's hands began to shake, and he let the paper fall to the table, face pale. Lydia swiped it up to read it for herself.  
  
::We know who you are. We know what it is you've done.   
::It would be to your advantage to meet us at eleven tonight.   
::Perhaps we can come to an...arrangement.  
  
"We're in trouble." Bruce whispered.  
  
"Maybe." Lydia said nervously.  
  
"Do we go?"  
  
"It's probably for the best. It might benefit us in the long run."  
  
The pair of them sat there for a short while longer, waiting for guidance from the spirit. But it never came. Exchanging a nervous glance, they rose from the table and left the diner in a subdued manner. They were both afraid. Very afraid.  
  
~*~  
  
There had been an address printed clearly on the bottom of the note, and it was outside that door that the brother and sister now stood.  
  
"You think whoever wrote the note is actually here?" The impatience could be heard clearly in Lydia's voice.  
  
"One way to find out." Bruce growled, trying the handle. He grunted in surprise as it clicked, and opened it in to the darkened room. He snorted. "Seems to be into theatrics. The lights are off." He told his sister.  
  
"They might not be here. Did that thought enter your thick head?" Lydia told him scornfully, closing the door behind her. "Just find the light switch. Even if they aren't here, we might as well find /something/ about them."  
  
"I think we should just leave." Bruce muttered, fumbling in the darkness.  
  
"What, and have whoever it is telling the police? They'd be after us in no time. We wouldn't stand a chance. Besides, we can...deal...with them if necessary." Lydia's laugh tinkled through the darkness.  
  
"I suppose you're right." His voice rose a notch in satisfaction. "Ah, I found it." He flipped the light switch, then whirled round in alarm as Lydia choked down on a scream. It was the last person he expected, but he stood up straight, and masked his emotions.  
  
Cookie lounged on the couch, twiddling a lock of blue hair around her fingers, a menacing glower on her face.  
  
~*~  
  
Cookie had sat in the darkness quietly, resisting the urge to speak, to give herself away. Damon had written the note, made the messenger forget. It was safer that way, he was safer, and they were safer. Cookie's only worry had been that her cousins wouldn't take the bait, and it had worried her until she heard their voices in the hall. Now she worried about the task ahead.  
  
"Cookie. Hi. Ah. I thought you were in hospital." Bruce's eyes flitted nervously, avoiding hers.  
  
"Your spell didn't work on me." She said, satisfied to see the pair flinch. "I'm adopted, not blood related to mom or Adam. So the spell didn't work on me." She sighed sadly. "Why? Why did you do it?" She asked finally, voice choked with emotion.  
  
Events caught up with Lydia. Things were blowing up in her face and she couldn't take it. She flipped. "Why? You have to ask /why/?" She shrieked. "Your family ruined ours. Your damn mother just /had/ to go and tell ours that dad was having an affair. If she hadn't things would still be good. Mom and dad would still be together, they wouldn't be arguing all the time, hating each other. Hating us. She ruined our family, so we ruined /hers/. It's only fair."  
  
"That's why we summoned the spirit. So it could help us. So we could get our revenge on you. It's more than powerful enough." Bruce smirked.  
  
"But it wasn't mom's fault." Cookie whispered. "She only did it because she cared about her sister."  
  
"It destroyed everything we knew, everything we cared about. We were happier not knowing." Bruce growled.  
  
"But it was still /your/ dad in the wrong. Not /my/ mom." Cookie choked. "/Nothing/ warrants what you did to her. To Adam. They're dying. Slowly, horribly. You and your parents, your family are still alive. /You/ are killing mine."  
  
"And you'll be joining them." Bruce laughed cruelly.  
  
Cookie shook her head sadly. She'd hoped that they'd have /some/ feelings of compassion, of regret. She didn't think that they would be reduced to this, so inhuman. She sighed, focusing her attention on her cousins, on their souls.  
  
"Get out." She ordered.  
  
"We're not going anywhere." Lydia giggled.  
  
"I'm not talking to you." Cookie snapped. "I'm talking to /it/. Whatever /it/ is that you called up and made a bargain with."  
  
"You're not separating us that easily." Bruce laughed.  
  
Cookie sighed and hung her head. "No. I didn't think it would be that easy. I was being hopeful. Plan B, then."  
  
Bruce arched a brow. "Plan B? Oh, I'm shaking in my boots."  
  
"You should be." Cookie growled.  
  
"We'll see." Lydia smirked.  
  
((Damon?)) Cookie thought. ((You can show yourself now.))  
  
"She's right, you know." Damon's voice rang out from the shadows, filled with detached amusement.  
  
Bruce and Lydia started, eyes wide, unable to pinpoint his exact location. "Show yourself." Bruce commanded, not entirely masking his unease.  
  
"You didn't say the magic word." Damon laughed shortly.  
  
"Which? We know many?" Lydia giggled again.  
  
"Your giggling is irritating. Maybe you should stop it before you damage someone's ear drum. Or before I rip out your throat." A shadow from the corner nearest the door coalesced into Damon, and Lydia's giggling choked off. "What a relief." Damon flashed a smile, and moved smoothly next to Cookie.  
  
"And what do you think /he/ can do?" Bruce sneered.  
  
"More than you'd think."  
  
"I don't think a /boy/ like you is any threat to /us/." Bruce laughed.  
  
"Don't bet on it." Cookie muttered.  
  
"I could kill you without a second thought. It won't mean anything to me." Bruce sneered menacingly at Damon, who in turn smiled back, turning the charm on.  
  
"Oh, I can do that. But I'll /enjoy/ it." Damon laughed. "More to the point, what makes /me/ far more dangerous than /you/ is that I /have/ done it. I've killed countless people, many for looking at me the wrong way, for saying the wrong thing. What have /you/ done?" Damon advanced slowly on Bruce, jabbing a finger at him. "Killed a few helpless teenagers. Forced another into a coma - for which, by the way, I am going to make you pay /dearly/." He stopped and leaned forward, his eyes inches from Bruce's. "You see, you're not in my league. What you've done, I've done a hundred times worse. Only with more style. And as for whatever that entity is inside of you both, I don't know what /it's/ done, except that without it, you wouldn't have done /anything/ right now." He reached over and held Lydia's chin with his thumb and fore-finger. "And now, my pretty, is where it all ends. And you're going to help."  
  
"Never." Lydia spat.  
  
"I think you will." Cookie warned. "You won't like the other alternative."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"A meeting with the Grim Reaper." Damon laughed. "And I'll be wielding the scythe."  
  
"You see, we need to get that thing out of you to get rid of it. You can either /willingly/ let it out of your bodies, or you can die, and it'll release itself." Cookie explained.  
  
"What would a kid like you know?" Lydia snorted.  
  
"A lot more than you." Damon retorted. "You see, this kind of thing is her life. She doesn't 'dabble' like you do. She's been brought up with this, and knows what she's doing."  
  
"So does /it/." Bruce laughed. "And /it's/ not afraid of using black ways. What's more, you have to /catch/ me first." He bolted out of the door, the catch falling and locking it behind him.  
  
"Dammit!" Cookie yelled, starting rattling the door handle. "Where's the stupid key? We need them both for the spirit to be captured. If we only release it from one, it'll find and enter the other one. Then it'll be whole, and too strong to deal with."  
  
"Oh, this just gets better and better." Damon rolled his eyes, grabbed the door handle, and, to Cookie and Lydia's surprise, ripped it off it's hinges. ((Keep an eye on the harlot in there.)) He thought to Cookie as he shot out of the door. Outside he cast his mind out to find Bruce's, then took to the air.  
  
  



	13. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Thirteen)  
  
*So much for Plan B*. Damon thought to himself. *What is it about the nineties that are making my life so difficult? The 18th century was easier than this. And that was a whole century compared to not even a whole decade.* His sharp eyes picked Bruce running at a speed faster than most humans into the woods. *Ah, he wants to play. Fine by me. I enjoy a good hunt.* He swooped down low to the ground, shifting back to his human form at a run, laughing wildly as he went.  
  
"Game's up, Brucey. You can't escape from me!" He yelled after the fleeing figure, who was having trouble running through the undergrowth. Damon sped through it easily, dodging the trees and shrubbery, seconds later passing by the panting boy. He stopped a few metres in front of him and leant against a tree. Bruce stopped short wide eyed.  
  
"How...?" He flung himself to one side, ignoring the puzzle, and started running again. Damon moved quickly, placing himself in front of Bruce once again.  
  
"I told you. You can't escape from me." The vampire examined a fingernail, an arrogant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Bruce changed direction again, only to find Damon in front of him once more.  
  
"Out of my way." He snarled, and started muttering to himself.  
  
"I'm /so/ pleased you've decided to play along. Makes my fun last a little longer." A wind started to pick up around Damon, and Bruce began to sweat visibly from his effort. Damon had the impression the thing inside wasn't helping the boy.  
  
"I'm...warning...you..." He panted.  
  
"You are?" Damon looked surprised. "Of this little breeze? You're hoping to give me a little chill? Wait until I'm distracted from sneezing, then make a break for it? Oh, /really/. Credit me with /some/ intelligence."  
  
"/Out...of...my...way.../" Bruce snarled through clenched teeth, the wind twisting fiercely round Damon.  
  
"No." Damon was growing bored with this. "Why don't /you/ stop." He reached out with his Powers and re-directed the wind towards Bruce. It whipped dust and leaves up and around into his face before it gentled and dissipated. "/That/ was child's play." Damon yawned. "If you've finished with the theatrics, do you think we could go back now?"  
  
"No!" Bruce yelled, and ran back the way he had come.  
  
"Oh, good grief." Damon sighed and sped after, catching the neck of the boy's sweater and jerking him back.  
  
"Wha?" Bruce was surprised. Damon turned him round forcefully to face him.  
  
"/Enough/ games." He snapped. Bruce struggled violently. "I /said enough/!" Damon snarled revealing his fangs. Bruce struggled harder, fear coursing through him. *I give up.* He sighed, and bit deep into Bruce's throat. The boy fainted, and Damon grinned to himself as he slung the body over his shoulder, and set off at a run for the house.  
  
~*~  
  
"Did you /have/ to knock him unconscious?" Cookie asked, exasperated. She eyed the pair in the centre of the circle, tied securely by Damon.  
  
"I didn't. He fainted. It's hardly my fault if he's a complete coward, now is it. And how was I to know it would knock /her/ out, too."  
  
"You weren't." She sighed. "But you shouldn't have scared him so much. We /need/ them to be conscious for this."  
  
"I can rouse them with Power if you really want me too." Damon suggested.  
  
"No. If we do that, it'll interrupt with the circle's energies."  
  
"Yes, about that. You /could/ have warned me that I'd end up on the /inside/. I wasn't planning on that." He admitted, glancing uneasily at the salt circle outlined on the carpet. She'd cast it a little while before, invoking the elements, erecting the wards.  
  
"You wouldn't be any use on the outside."  
  
"I can't do much on the inside, either." He pointed out.  
  
"You can get me out of trouble if something happens."  
  
"I could do that from the outside."  
  
"No, not the way this works. If you were human, you could. But you're not, and you have a thresh-hold restriction. You wouldn't be able to get into this, even if I yelled it at the top of my lungs. It's part of the protection of the circle that nothing supernatural can get out, and therefore in. That includes you."  
  
"So how would I get you out of trouble?" He asked, picking at the glaring fault in the plan.  
  
"Need. If you really /need/ to get out, you can break the powers of the circle with your own. You're strong enough."  
  
"If they can be taken down, how come /you/ can't do it?"  
  
"Because if I need your help, I won't be able to. Chances are I'll be out of it. Unconscious, maybe. Incoherent at the least."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah. Oh. So keep a close eye on things."  
  
"One thing." Damon said after a moment's thought. "If /I/ could take down the barriers, then what's stopping the spirit or whatever it is from getting out?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Um. Well, it sort of depends on luck."  
  
"Luck." Damon said flatly. "Typical."  
  
"The thing is nowhere near it's full Power. It's split, and that makes it weak. It's that reason that means those two still have their minds as intact as they do. It can't take them over entirely because it doesn't have a hold on itself. When it's drawn out, it should be too weak and disorientated to do anything, and in that time, I /should/ be able to banish it."  
  
"And if you can't?" Damon asked quietly.  
  
"Then we're in /really/ deep shit."  
  
"You are owe me /big/ for this." He growled finally, voice full of conviction.  
  
"I guess you'll have to put it on my slate, huh?" Cookie asked hopefully. Damon shot her an evil look, but, to Cookie's relief, didn't take it further.  
  
~*~  
  
Bruce and Lydia's eyes fluttered open, and widened in shock and panic when they realised they were tied, back to back, wrists securely trussed to the other's.  
  
"Are you going to behave and co-operate?" Damon asked, a dangerous note ringing clearly through the guise of pleasance.  
  
"Forget it." Lydia snapped.  
  
Damon turned to Bruce, whose face was pale, his mouth twisted with fear. "Do you agree with her?" Damon smiled evilly. Bruce shook his head and whimpered. "Sorry, what was that? I didn't quite hear you." Damon asked, cupping his hand round his ear.  
  
"No. I'll co-operate." Bruce whispered hoarsely.  
  
"What?!" Lydia yelled angrily, struggling to turn and look at him. "How can you give in. They can't do anything if we don't co- operate."  
  
"They'll kill us."  
  
"Cookie? Ha! She doesn't have the guts. Her beliefs won't let her."  
  
"No, but his will." Bruce choked out.  
  
"Coward." She snapped, then addressed Cookie. "You need both of us to co-operate. See how well you manage without my help."  
  
Bruce wailed. "No! You don't understand. /He/ isn't even human. He...he's a vampire, or something like that. He showed what he was when I escaped. He'll kill us to get what he wants. It doesn't bother him. /Please/, do what she says."  
  
"It's up to you." Damon said coldly. "I don't mind either way. Actually, I'd prefer to kill you. That crow you threw the stone at, remember it? That was me. You broke my arm, and I don't like letting people get away with hurting me. So take your pick. Live and have it easy, or die by my hand. Rest assured I /will/ be extracting as much revenge as I possibly can if you choose the latter."  
  
His words sent shivers up and down Cookie's spine. */Please/ co- operate.* She thought. *Mother of All, please let them choose to co- operate.* The killing was partly a bluff. She didn't want to do it in the circle. The negativity would make things go badly for them, and the spirit would feed from it. It was a danger that would greatly reduce their chances of success.  
  
"Lydia, we have no choice." Bruce insisted.  
  
"Alright. Fine. I'll co-operate." Lydia hung her head and stared fixedly on a patch of carpet.  
  
"You mean that?" Damon queried, menacingly.  
  
"Yes." She replied sullenly, but a note in her voice said she was telling the truth.  
  
"Good." Cookie breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, I want you to do exactly as I say. I want you to close your eyes, and breath slowly and deeply. Feel your bodies relaxing, the waking world drifting away. I want you to hear my voice. You're floating inside yourselves, relaxed, unafraid. You're floating towards a bright light, and in that light is a safe place, a place where you feel calm, a sanctuary from hurts and evils. You're floating into that place now. Picture it in your minds, every detail, every sight, sound and smell. Draw yourselves into this place, become one with this place." Cookie's voice was soft and soothing. She'd done visualisation work like this before with friends, but never for anything as serious or important as this. She didn't even know it if it would work. She left them in silence for a good few minutes, letting them explore. She hoped they were following what she was saying, and not bluffing. "You should be feeling relaxed and peaceful. You should be feeling safe in your sanctuaries.  
  
"The light is still surrounding you, protecting you. If you reach out, you can feel it's power. Gather it into yourselves, draw it close, as close as you can. As much as you can, and when I am ready, push the light outwards from yourselves, forcing the darkness away, forcing it out from yourselves." She paused and licked her lips, then looked over to Damon, and froze. His eyes were narrowed, his body tense, ready to fight. *He shouldn't be doing that. Something's wrong.* She opened up her own senses further, and fear welled up inside her. Dark Power was welling from within her cousins, a tsunami gathering in strength, and it was aimed at her. But not from her cousins. The thing was leaving of it's own accord, not waiting to be trapped by her. She could see it now. A dark, red mass, laced was blackness, laced with evil. *Oh Great Mother and Father.* She panicked. *My dream. This was what my dream was.* She braced herself, gathering her own Powers, preparing to fight. The thing shrieked loudly in rage, and flew straight for her. It never hit. She felt the shields ripping apart at her back as she was propelled out of the circle by a different source of Power.  
  
She hit the floor hard, winded by the figure landing on top of her. She looked into Damon's grim face, and then flinched as the thing exploded through the rest of the shields and roared hotly over them, flying out of the window.  
  
"Need." Damon told her. "You were right. I /had/ to get you out of there. Glad it worked." He gave a small, tight smile, then rushed to the window. Cookie watched as Damon blurred, and the crow flew out of the window, following the loosed evil. Fear for the vampire began to eat away at her heart.  
  
"What the hell happened in here?" A voice behind her demanded. She turned to see Stefan staring at the apartment in shock. She looked at it herself, and gasped in shock. The walls were blackened and charred, as was most of the furniture in the room. The television was a melted mess. *How on Earth did we survive that. We should be /dead/.*  
  
"It went wrong." She muttered thickly in defeat. "What are you doing here? I told you to stay away."  
  
Stefan grimaced. "I couldn't not come. I had to help somehow. Where's Damon?" He asked, glancing round.  
  
"Followed it." She said mutely. Then her eyes widened. *My dream. The Crow and the Falcon.* She thought. *Damon and Stefan....* She spoke out loud, voice cracking with fear. "Stefan, you have to go after him, you have to help him. He'll die without you." Stefan frowned at her. "/Hurry/. I've /seen/ it. You have to help each other, or you'll lose him."  
  
Stefan's eyes widened, and he nodded quickly in understanding. "How long ago?" He asked, heading for the window.  
  
"A few minutes. Hurry. /Please/."  
  
"I will." He whispered. Then his form blurred and wavered before solidifying into it's new shape. Cookie watched in awe and respect as the falcon from her dream soared gracefully, hunting for his brother.  
  
((Good luck.)) She thought after him, praying from her soul that he wouldn't be too late.  
  
~*~  
  
Damon was hurt and frustrated. He'd followed the thing until it seemed to have run out of energy. It had stopped in a meadow and Damon had landed a short distance from it, keeping a wary distance. He'd tried attacking it, only to be repelled back by a painful electric shocks. Besides, the thing wasn't solid. There wasn't much he /could/ do to it. The only option he had was to wait it out, run it till it lost it's energy and died. That was /if/ it could run out of that much energy. His idea was that it wouldn't be able to survive long in this world without a body to host it. At least Damon /hoped/ that was the case, if he remembered Cookie's words.  
  
So Damon circled it, stalked it, herded it away from possible hiding places with his Power. All the time, Cookie's dream was on his mind. He was alone, and fully aware he could die. *Well, so be it.* He thought finally with a fierce passion. *But I swear I'm taking that thing with me when I go.* He grinned savagely, and sent another burst of Power to the thing.  
  
He was rewarded when he started to sense it's panic, it's fear that it was naked and perhaps a little vulnerable. It never occurred to him what it would do when it became desperate. He'd assumed that it needed a living body, a human body. He didn't think that he was in any danger from it. Until the thing rushed him, consumed him, and forced it's way inside. The pain was intense, and Damon fell to the ground, fighting to expel it, and then just fighting to hang on to consciousness. He lost the fight as he felt cool, gentle hands supporting his head, resting it in a lap. He wouldn't die alone, then, he realised.  
  
"Damon?" A worried voice whispered.  
  
*Stefan.* He thought sadly as the blackness claimed him.  
  
~*~  
  
They were alone. Stefan had flown after Damon as fast as possible, senses stretching to their limit to find any sign, fear and desperation boosting his Powers. He'd finally spotted his brother sprawled in a meadow a few miles out of town. The thing was gone, destroyed, Stefan was sure it was. He couldn't feel it anymore, couldn't find a trace of it. Damon had done it, he'd succeeded.  
  
Now it was just him and Damon, alone in the meadow, under the stars. He looked down into his brother's unconscious face, his head cradled in his lap, and the tears spilled over.  
  
"Don't die, Damon." He whispered, stroking the silky rainbow- black hair from his brother's brow. "We've come too far now. We've not had enough time. A year isn't long enough, we've got to put right all those centuries of hatred." No response. "You're stronger than this, you can survive. I've been hurt worse than this, and /I/ survived. You're far more powerful than I am." He pleaded.  
  
But despite his words, despair had a firm grip on his heart. /He/ had survived because of Elena. He'd lived because of her gift of life. But now there was no angel Elena to save them, no ethereal spirit to grant forgiveness and light on his brother. Damon had no one, he realised miserably, heart full of defeat. */But he has you/* the voice deep inside him said. */He has you, he has your love/*.  
  
*But what can I do?* Stefan thought bitterly. *I'm too weak.* Damon's breathing was becoming shallower. It was something inside him killing him, as if he was losing the will to live. *No!* Stefan thought with anguish. */You're not weak/* his inner voice told him, */You're strong. You may not have as much Power, but your spirit is strong, your /love/ is strong. No amount of Power can help him now, but love can. /Your/ love can./*  
  
Stefan's tears were falling onto Damon's face now, and he stared blindly at them. ((Don't leave me.)) He pleaded. ((Don't you dare leave me now.)) His brother looked troubled, sad, his expression mirroring the one he'd worn on the Tuesday night. /Tuesday night/. *Cookie.* He thought, hope rising in him. Cookie had been inside Damon's mind, touched his /soul/. If he could do it, if he could get in...  
  
Stefan reached out blindly for Damon's mind and /pushed/.  
  
~*~  
  
It was black. Not the blackness of night or darkness, this was a pitch black, an evil black. It was an absence of light and life, an absence of love. Stefan knew this wasn't normal. No matter how dark Damon was, /this/ was not him.  
  
A voice hissed through the blackness, seducing, deadly, and evil. *Oh God.* Stefan thought in shock. *It wasn't destroyed, it came /here/. It wants Damon's body.* He mentally gritted his teeth. *There's no way it's taking my brother without a fight.*  
  
"Damon!" He yelled through the blackness. "Damon, answer me!"  
  
/He cannot hear you/. The voice hissed. /He is mine. His will to fight has left him, and so soon will his will to live. Then this body will be mine. His Powers will be mine. I will be reborn./  
  
"/Never/." Stefan spat.  
  
/You can do nothing. You are weak here. I am strong. I will take him./  
  
"No!" Stefan cried out, rushing blindly for the source of the voice, fury coursing through him. He was flung back forcefully, and it hurt. Stefan pushed the pain back, and rushed again, only to be flung back, again.  
  
/See. You can do /nothing/ to harm me./ It laughed. /I am too powerful. You are nothing more than an irritating itch, and it's time I scratched you away./ Stefan could feel it gathering the blackness around it, drawing in the evil, preparing for the kill.  
  
"/Leave him alone!/" The hoarse, screaming voice echoed through the blackness, laced with hatred and fury. Damon. Stefan felt himself surrounded, blinded by light as the evil was unleashed.  
  
His vision cleared to reveal a bubble of light. Damon stood in the small, bright core, a weary, hunted expression on his face. Stefan never thought he would see his brother looking so haggard, so /defeated/. It wasn't like him.  
  
"Why aren't you fighting?" Stefan asked.  
  
"I'm trying." Damon whispered. "But I don't have anything to fight with."  
  
"But you're so strong."  
  
Damon looked at him, midnight eyes filled with sorrow. "And it feeds off that strength. It revels in anger and hatred. It delights in my past, at the evil I'm capable of. It's like fighting fire with fire." Damon shook his head sadly. "And the little love I have is being crushed by my own hatred, at the things I've done. All I have is this." He gestured around him. "All I have is what Rebecca gave me. What I gave Rebecca, and it isn't enough."  
  
"That's not true." Stefan shook his head. The blackness was steadily eating away at the sanctuary of light.  
  
"But it is. I've drawn on all I can. You see it here. There /is/ no more."  
  
"But it is here." Stefan said, a smile lighting his face. "/I'm/ here. I'll always be here for you." He said simply. Damon looked bewildered, vulnerable and lost. But Stefan thought he saw a trace of hope there, too. He held out a hand towards his brother, a gesture of unconditional love, trust and forgiveness. It was a gesture he'd made once before, in the clearing with Elena a little more than a year ago, a year that seemed like an age. Damon regarded the hand for a long moment, and finally a small smile crossed his face.  
  
"I am what I am." He said quietly. "I can't and won't change that."  
  
"I know." Stefan acknowledged just as quietly. "I don't expect you to. I don't expect anything, except for you to trust me."  
  
"I trust you." Damon nodded, taking his brothers hand.  
  
A bright, white light flared from between them, radiating in all directions, banishing the blackness, destroying the evil, healing Damon's pain. The voice shrieked in agony and rage, futily trying to push the light back. Eventually the screaming stopped, and the light dimmed and vanished, it's purpose fulfilled. Darkness fell once again, it's misty tendrils claiming back the parts of Damon's soul that the invading spirit had claimed. But this time, Damon, Prince of Darkness, kept his feelings, his love and his heart unlocked.  
  
  



	14. 

  
The Crow and the Falcon. (Epilogue)  
  
Everything seemed strangely quiet. Stefan guessed that he'd become accustomed to the frenzy of the past few days - normality seemed strangely dull. But that was a good sign. Things were back to normal, and the inhabitants of Redditch were safe, the majority of whom were never likely to find out what had occurred lately.  
  
Adam and Abigail Tate had woken from their comas at what the brothers had guessed was the time the spirit had been finally destroyed, the spell on them apparently dependent on being fuelled by the spirit's Power. It was a small blessing, but greatly received. Neither of them had any ideas of how to reverse it if it had still been going strong.  
  
Stefan sighed and hefted a box full of belongings down to the hallway. It was surprising that as many of their belongings survived that did. Luckily, most of the stuff that had been destroyed had been bought when they came to Redditch. Their own most personal and valuable belongings had been kept in their rooms, where they'd been relatively safe. He was sorry he'd missed Cookie's theatrics about her evil arsonist cousins. He'd been told it was impressive.  
  
Still, it was time to move on. Bruce and Lydia's testimony could be a threat. Granted, the community considered them to be raving lunatics, and only displayed outright hostility to them for what they'd done, but as Stefan had pointed out, it only took the wrong person to listen to them. It was safer they move on. Better for their new friends, too. That was the main reason for leaving. They'd be safer, be able to lead normal lives. It was hard to hold on to that when Stefan faced up to things. When all was said and done, they were leaving some good friends, friends who accepted them. Friends who cared.  
  
"This is the last." Damon said quietly, coming down the stairs behind his brother.  
  
Stefan nodded. "Where now?"  
  
"Wherever." Damon shrugged.  
  
"We staying together, then?"  
  
"I suppose. I've nothing better to do than hang around for a few centuries with my little brother." He flashed a grin.  
  
"Don't do me any favours." Stefan grinned back.  
  
"Of course, there are conditions."  
  
"I'm not drinking human blood." Stefan was adamant.  
  
"Well, we'll see about that. A few more years in my company and you'll probably be revelling in the stuff." He joked. "No, the condition is that you lighten up, stop preaching to me about honour and morals. Take me for what I am."  
  
Stefan stared at the ceiling. "The thing with the twentieth century is the honour and morals seem to have no place here anymore."  
  
"Get up to date then." Damon teased.  
  
"Nah. Someone has to keep the past alive." Damon rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright. I'll lighten up. But I'm not going to stop complaining altogether." He picked up a box and started for the door. "After all, if /I/ didn't, who else would keep you in line?" He laughed and jumped out of the door before Damon could hit him. Damon shook his head, and followed after with a box of his own.  
  
~*~  
  
"So, you're leaving without saying goodbye, huh?" Jess lounged on top of the hood of Damon's Ferrari, and blew a bubble with bright green gum before continuing. "And to think we thought we were friends. That hurts." She pouted.  
  
"We thought it would be best that way." Stefan shrugged, embarrassed.  
  
"You shouldn't think for other people." Cookie said from her seat on the sidewalk.  
  
"Maybe we weren't doing it for you." Damon pointed out. "Maybe it's easier for us to let go if we don't have to say goodbye."  
  
"We don't want you to go." Mike said. He was leaning against the fence next to Zia.  
  
"It's better if we do." Stefan explained, putting his box down.  
  
"For who? Not us." Jess retorted. "We mean it. We want you to stay. We're your friends."  
  
"And that means a lot. But wherever we go, trouble seems to follow. We can only bring you harm in the long run. So it's because we value you as friends and because we care that we're leaving."  
  
"Hey, what's a bit of danger now and then." Adam laughed. "We'd be bored out of our minds if we were safe for the rest of our lives."  
  
Jess looked at them earnestly, her face open and hopeful. "Please stay. /Please/." Stefan shrugged uncomfortably, while Damon stared at the floor. "Aw, C'mon. Don't make me beg here, guys."  
  
"Where would we stay. We've totalled the apartment." Damon told her, gesturing to the top of the large house.  
  
"Paul is taking over the attic space, Kate couldn't take the noise on the top floor. Those plus the spare room leave you a choice of three rooms at our place." Mike suggested.  
  
"What about your mother?"  
  
"She won't mind. We kinda asked anyway." Jess grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Uh huh. And what was it Cookie was saying a minute ago about thinking for other people." Stefan grinned. "Anyhow I don't think your mom would appreciate two vampires living under her roof."  
  
"If she can put up with those two plus six other monsters, you guys would be tame in comparison." Zia laughed, speaking up. "You wouldn't have to tell her, anyway."  
  
"Oh yes we would." Damon muttered. "Stefan wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't..." He trailed off and shot a filthy look at his brother as Stefan kicked his leg.  
  
"Come on. Stay." Adam urged.  
  
"At least give it a try." Cookie added.  
  
"You can't spend the rest of eternity running away." Mike told them. Stefan began to feel unsure of himself.  
  
"Please." Jess slid off of the car, and knelt down on the sidewalk. "Look, I'm /begging/ you now. /Please/ stay." She shuffled forward in front of Stefan, and looked up into his face, her eyes wide.  
  
Stefan laughed. "You'll ruin your pants doing that."  
  
"Who cares. My hard image is totally out of the window now. What's a pair of pants compared to that."  
  
"Oh for Gods' sake. Just tell her we'll stay before she decides to start up the waterworks." Damon sounded disgusted, but a grin tugged at his lips.  
  
Stefan stared at him, surprised. "You /want/ to stay?"  
  
"It's as good a place as any." He replied. "But I'll leave it up to you."  
  
"You think if I /did/ cry, he'd stay?" Jess asked him.  
  
"Probably. He's a sucker for damsels in distress." Damon told her, then grinned menacingly. "But I wouldn't do it if I were you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I'd have to kill you."  
  
"Try it, bud. I'd floor you in seconds."  
  
"Of course." Damon arched a sceptical brow at her. "And is that a pig with wings flying behind you?"  
  
Jess poked her tongue out at him, then turned her attention back to Stefan. "Pur-lease." She whined.  
  
"Okay, okay." Stefan laughed. "I give in. We'll give it a try. I mean, I promised Zia I'd help with her chemistry, so I can't leave her in the lurch, now, can I?"  
  
"Yes!" Jess yelled, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. He was surprised, but after a moment he hugged her back.  
  
"Anyone up for a celebratory meal at Deb's?" Zia asked happily.  
  
"Maybe we could get those somewhere safe first?" Damon pointed to the boxes. "Because if someone steals my stuff the police are going to be dragging a body out of the gutter."  
  
"I'll give you a hand then." Mike told them, shooting Damon a withering glance.  
  
Stefan pulled Jess back as the rest of them retreated to the hallway to fetch the remaining boxes. "Just one thing." He said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Why did you accept what we are so easily?"  
  
"Because I think I understand to some degree." Jess replied, a little reluctantly.  
  
"How?" Stefan was intrigued.  
  
Jess thought for a moment, then nodded as she came to a decision. "My secret is hardly in your league. I guess I owe it to you to tell you. I have Diabetes. Had it for years now. Every day I have to stick needles in my arms and give myself insulin. Without it, I die. So I can understand about having to depend an outside substance to survive. From what I can gather, you aren't to thrilled about being dependant on blood. Well I'm not thrilled about being dependent on a damned injection to live. I get so sick of the needles, the calorie counting, not being able to eat what everyone else eats. Hell, if I want to grab a burger I have to know about it at the start of the day. Then there are the tests. Frequent visits to the hospital to make sure I'm okay. All of it alienates you from the rest of the human race. You start feeling envious of the freedom other people have. I'm only guessing here, but I imagine you probably experience similar feelings about your own condition."  
  
Stefan sighed. "Yes. But there's a difference. At least I had the choice. At least blood drinking doesn't cripple what activities I want to do like it does you. And I thought I had it bad."  
  
"Hey, but look at me. Do I let it get to me? You think I lead a substandard life? Do I sit around moping?"  
  
Stefan shook his head and grinned a little. "No. You lead one of the fullest lives I've ever known."  
  
"So learn a lesson. Get over your handicaps, don't dwell on them. You'll feel a whole lot better for it."  
  
"Maybe." He said quietly. Then, after a few moments, "You're sure your mom won't freak when we tell her what we are?"  
  
"Hey, my mom would invite an alien invasion force in for coffee and cake. I don't think she'll have much of a problem with a vegetarian vampire and his wayward brother. Besides, she likes you guys." She grinned.  
  
"But I'm not vegetarian." Stefan frowned.  
  
"Might as well be." She said, reaching up and ruffling his hair. "Lighten up a little. It's the nineties after all." She skipped up the path after the others.  
  
*Welcome to the nineties, Stefan.* He told himself. *And a brand new start.* He smiled, took a deep breath of fresh air, then followed Jess. The future was looking bright for a change. He decided to enjoy it for once.  
  
The End  
  
  
Thanks for reading. Hope your brain survived the ordeal. ;)  
  
Witchy facts were made up by me, even though the chakras and the like do exist. I just played with them - dramatic license and all.  
  



End file.
